


Stay Awake When I'm Asleep

by harriet_vane



Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:06:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harriet_vane/pseuds/harriet_vane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrew Garfield inherits a surprise baby.</p><p> </p><p>Contents May Include: An ASTONISHING amount of curtainfic and schmoop. Some sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Awake When I'm Asleep

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't post this fic anywhere else, please don't distribute it anywhere, please don't put it on goodreads, and really really please don't link it to anyone being written about here. Thanks!

  
Emma got a phone call early Tuesday morning. "We're canceling the interviews and press for Friday. Andrew's not available."

Emma was half-awake and trying to decide how to handle the first onslaught of the press blitz, so she was a bit taken aback. "He – He's Spider-man. The movie is called 'The Amazing Spider-man.' Is he allowed to skip interviews?"

Whoever was on the line – some poor PA who'd been told to call everyone, probably – sighed a lot. "I don't know anything else, Ms. Stone. Just that we're rescheduling for the beginning of next week. I'll email you the schedule as soon as we know it. You can go away if you want as long as you're back next Monday."

"Will Andrew be back next Monday?" Emma asked. She tried to sound calm, but she was pretty sure Andrew would have told her if he was going somewhere. Had he been fired? Was he on drugs and in emergency rehab? Maybe the drugs were how he stayed so cheerful all the time.

"I'm not sure, ma'am," the PA said, and Emma winced. She wasn't nearly old enough to be a ma'am. "I'm told it's a family emergency."

"Oh," said Emma. "Oh, jeez, I hope he's okay."

"Me too," said the PA tonelessly, and hung up.

Emma immediately texted Andrew. _Is everything okay???? Where are you?????_ and then after a second, _I hope you're alright. Call me!!!!_

He didn't text back, though, and she hadn't really expected him to. If there was some kind of family emergency going on he was probably on a flight to England, and if it was something else he might not be allowed to use his phone. Maybe he was weathering a legal scandal. Maybe it really was a family thing. She hoped so.

Andrew texted back around three in the morning. Emma had just crawled into bed; she groped for her phone and tried to make her eyes focus on it well enough to read. When she rubbed her eyes mascara came away on her hand.

 _Not dead, not in rehab, not sacked._ Emma snorted. They had the same paranoid ideas, obviously.

 _gtk. Is everything okay????_ Emma texted back.

There was a pause and then another beep. _y sort of it's complicated be back soon I hope explain it all then if I can_.

Emma frowned at her phone. Andrew was adorable but not always the world's clearest communicator.

The phone beeped one more time. _pls tell J sorry I was meant to call him this weekend can't now in Surrey really sorry!!!_

She was tired and a little groggy, so she wasn't sure who J was for a second, and then realized they only had one J in common. _Sure!_ she texted back, and fell asleep.

\--

Emma had gotten incredibly fond of Jesse on the set of Zombieland, because he was so sweet and so funny and such a nice guy, but she hadn't actually seen him in months except for a brief wave or two on the red carpet.

"This is a little weird," she said, "but I have a message for you from Andrew."

"Is he dead?" Jesse asked, and he didn't especially sound like he was kidding, but it was hard to tell with Jesse because his deadpan was so dry.

"Nope," Emma said. "He is, however, unexpectedly in England, so I guess he wanted me to tell you he couldn't call you."

"Ah. I see. Because phones don't work in England. I think I'll just assume he's decided he hates me and is avoiding my calls," said Jesse. Emma was _pretty sure_ he was joking, but again, it was right on the borderline.

"Do you have any idea why he's on this emergency trip?" Emma asked.

"Uh, if it is, I haven't been told about it." Jesse was fidgeting with something on the phone.

Emma was feeling a little bit nosey, and she hadn't gotten to tease Jesse in forever. "So…" she said. "What are you and Garfield having phone dates about?"

There was a weird pause. "It's not – We – What? No, he was going to call because we had that red carpet thing and we were gonna – He said he wanted to know who I was wearing and shit and I don't know, sometimes he calls me? I didn't—"

"Calm down," Emma said, biting back a laugh. "I was making fun of you. I don't think you and Andrew are secretly dating."

There was a longer, weirder pause. "Why would you even say that?" Jesse asked, voice so high and pinched that for a second Emma thought she had busted him, and somehow he and Andrew were _actually secret boyfriends_ and she had found the scoop of the century.

And then she realized was that it was much simpler than that. Jesse had a crush. A secret crush. It was all she could do to keep her immediate hand-flapping reaction quiet, biting her lip and trying not to shout her glee from the balcony.

"Sorry," Emma managed, trying to sound normal. She was an actor, damn it; she could fake calm if she had to. "I was just joking."

"Well, it's a weird… It's a weird thing to joke about," said Jesse. "Do you really think he's okay?"

"He specifically texted me that he wasn't dead or in rehab," Emma said.

"Have you checked the gossip sites?"

"I don't think he's famous enough for that here," said Emma. "He might be in England, maybe? Can we check their gossip sites?"

"I'm googling him," said Jesse, and Emma thought _I bet you wish you were_ , and giggled quietly to herself. "Nothing's coming up."

"Good, I guess," said Emma. "He probably wants to keep this quiet. Whatever it is."

"Will you call me when you find out what's going on?" Jesse asked.

"Definitely," said Emma. She was sort of secretly hoping it would be a small emergency, something she could justify inviting Jesse out to visit about, but not big enough that Andrew would be sad and mopey. Because then she could make sure her theory about Jesse was right, and if it was… Well. She'd wondered about Andrew anyway. He _never_ shut up about how talented and great Jesse was.

Emma started to laugh again and had to bite her lip and hang up quickly. She'd never tried to set anyone up before. Maybe she could lock the two of them in a closet or something, and see what happened.

\--

Monday morning had been reorganized so they had a bunch of interviews in a row, the kind of thing where all the different L.A. stations and local news all across the country interviewed them for ten minutes each, some on satellite and others in person. It was usually a grueling, miserable experience. Having Andrew around made it much it less painful.

But when Andrew walked into the studio he looked like absolute shit. He must have had on a little makeup, at least, but there were bags under his eyes and he was pale and unhappy and tired and a little bit… A little bit wild around the edges, like he was scared of something, almost.

"Are you okay?" Emma hissed, holding on to his arm a little too tightly.

Andrew nodded, and then shook his head, and then nodded again. "Fine," he said. "Everything is great."

They were still setting up cameras, and the impossibly perky hosts hadn't settled on their questions yet, so Emma pulled Andrew a step or two off to the side and tried to smile casually. "If you're on drugs you have to tell me."

"I'm not," Andrew said. "I'm just a little jet lagged."

"Bullshit," said Emma. "You were flying back and forth all the time during the shoot and you didn't look this awful."

Andrew laughed, but he sounded tired, and there was no laughter in his eyes. "Sorry," he said. "I'm… I'll try to rally."

She wanted to say they could put this off so he could take a nap, or at least get some more makeup, but they'd already rescheduled everything. "Coffee?" she asked.

"Tea," said Andrew. "Gallons of it."

Emma flagged down someone's assistant and managed to convince him that his job was to bring her and Andrew all the tea he could find. " Are you going to be okay to do this?" she asked.

"I hope so." He grimaced.

"Ready?" chirped the anchorwoman, straightening her miniskirt.

Emma dug her fingers into Andrew's arm a little bit. "Later," she said. "You're going to tell me everything."

"I – Well, I – I mean—" Andrew started.

Emma dragged him back over to the chairs and flashed a big smile. "We're ready," she said cheerfully, settling in for a long and painful day.

\--

  
The parade of local news went on forever, roughly, with a break just long enough for Emma to pee and grab another cup of coffee and find more tea for Andrew before they started up again. She felt half-dead by the end, and Andrew was in danger of falling out of his chair. Normally they picked up the slack for each other as they burned out on the same questions over and over. ("Did you read comics as a kid?" "What do you think about rebooting the franchise so quickly?" "Why are Brits playing all our superheroes now?" "Emma, who's a better kisser, Andrew or Jesse?") But Andrew was both exhausted and obviously thinking about something else, and it was all Emma could do to keep the anchors from noticing how little attention to them he was actually paying.

When they were finally, mercifully done, she dragged him off to the green room. "I can't do that again tomorrow," she said. "I totally lost my voice. What the hell, Garfield?"

"Sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry, I'll be better tomorrow, I'll have it together."

"I'm driving you home," Emma said, "and checking for drugs. Are you coming down off coke or something?"

"I'd love a lift," said Andrew. "But it's a bit of a disaster at mine." He looked around uncomfortably, like someone was going to burst into the green room with a mic.

"Tell me why in the car," said Emma, dragging him outside.

Andrew was fidgety in the parking lot and restless in the car. She wanted to be sympathetic, but she also wanted desperately to know what had happened. "So?" she said. He was looking out the window, hair caught in the wind. "Hey, you! Mr. Space Cadet!"

Andrew sighed and sank in the seat a little bit. "It's a long story." Emma elbowed him and shifted gears, deliberately almost running a red light. "Okay, don't kill us both, it's just… I got this phone call last week that a friend of mine had died."

"Oh no, Andrew, I'm so sorry," said Emma.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't unexpected, I suppose. We'd been friends since we were kids, although my parents didn't like her much. Wrong sort of people, I suppose. Everybody knew her dad drank and her mum was on drugs and they'd get in screaming brawls and the police would have to come round and break it up."

It was always a sunny in L.A., and Emma was glad she had sunglasses on so she could give Andrew sidelong glances and not have him catch her too flagrantly. "Was she your girlfriend?"

Andrew laughed a little sadly. "We never got that far, and my mum would have murdered me. Emily was quite nice, but not… Not suitable, I guess. I suppose I fancied her. I think I did, at least."

"And?" said Emma, "What's happened?"

Andrew tapped his fingers restlessly against his jeans. "I knew she'd vanished a year or two back, I mean, we kept in touch but not that often anymore, and my friends said she'd met some awful bloke. Drugs, prison, the whole thing. Not surprising, just sad. She came home a month ago with a baby. Said it was his but he'd fucked off."

"And now she's dead?" Emma asked, biting her lip. "God, Andrew, that's a mess. Are her parents watching the baby?" No wonder he was upset; he'd probably spent the whole time he was home thinking about how awful that situation was going to be.

"Can't," said Andrew. "Her father's long dead, mum's on drugs and in and out of hospitals all the time. And anyway according to the papers I saw on Thursday she's named me legal guardian and told everyone I'm the godfather. First I've heard of it."

Emma almost slammed on the brakes and sent them both through the windshield. "Wait," she said. "What? Seriously? What the _fuck_?" She pulled off into the parking lot of a strip mall so she could push her sunglasses up on her head and give him a really serious look. "Say that again."

"Apparently it's the only responsible thing she's ever managed," said Andrew tiredly, slumping against the seat. He pressed his hands over his eyes and tilted his face up, breathing deeply. "She got it signed and registered, and it doesn't actually legally obligate me to take Harry, but if I don't the state will. The father's signed a paper, or been declared unfit, or something. And there's _no one else._ "

"What did you do?" asked Emma. She was horrified. Poor Andrew. She had a vague idea that orphanages in England weren't _really_ just like Oliver, but still. His heart had to be broken over this. "I'm going to buy you the biggest bottle of whiskey in the world."

"Don't," he said, smiling wryly. "I don't think it'd help me much when I'm trying to change nappies."

For just a second Emma wasn't sure what he meant, and then she wasn't sure how to say anything in response. Her mouth was hanging open unattractively and the whole car seemed to have tilted ninety degrees.

"Yes," said Andrew, still not looking at her. "Yes, I am an idiot."

"You _took the baby_?" Emma shouted.

"It all happened so quickly," Andrew said. "I got the phone call that Emily had died, and did I know I was her son's legal guardian, and could I be there in time to make the arrangements for social services to take him? Then I _got home_ and started talking to the people from foster care and it was all so scary and miserable and I asked if there wasn't anything I could do, and they said not unless I wanted to take him, and I said could I, just for a bit? And he was so sweet and all alone and I just… I signed everything that the solicitor handed me and they made some kind of special arrangement for me to take him back to L.A. because I needed to go back to work."

"Oh. My. God." Emma said.

Andrew groaned. "What was I supposed to do?"

"I mean…" Emma flapped her hand around a little bit. "You don't _take someone else's baby out of the country_ , Andrew, that's what you _don't_ do!"

"He's my baby now," said Andrew, just a little bit fiercely. "I just… I couldn't let strangers take him away."

"But that's their job!" Emma said. How had her voice gotten so loud? "They're equipped to deal with a baby! _You're not!_ "

"Well, I've never tried," said Andrew. He gave her a pleading look, but she refused to crack because as near as she could tell Andrew was _ruining his life_. "My mum is going to come out and help," he said quietly, "but she can't get away for a week or two. I just… I just really don't want the press to hear about this until I've got my head on straight about it. Or maybe ever."

"Spider-man press is about to swing into high gear and your face is going to be on every magazine and newspaper and television and movie screen in the world, so you think _now_ is a good time to adopt a _secret baby_?" Emma demanded. She stopped and made herself take a couple of deep breaths. "Okay. Okay, so where is the baby now?"

"He's at my flat," said Andrew guiltily. "One of my mum's L.A. friends is watching him, but she can't tomorrow or Wednesday and I don't know what I'm going to do."

This time the pleading tone and the big sad eyes totally worked. Emma could feel her angry resolve crumbling. "Shit," she said tiredly. "Okay. Well. I guess we're gonna need a plan to deal with this."

\--

Emma had been to Andrew's apartment once; it was small but pretty nice, with weird art on the walls and a forgivable amount of clothing on the floor. When she followed Andrew in this time it looked a little like a hurricane had blown through the living room. There was an open suitcase in the middle of the floor and clothes spilling out of it, dirty dishes on the table, and take-out bags all over the floor. Emma wasn't a neat-freak but she was pretty sure some of that food was from before he'd gone to England.

An older woman with her hair up in a ponytail walked out of the kitchen. "He's down for a nap but he'll be up soon," she said. "Good thing you're back."

"Thanks for today," said Andrew.

Emma had expected more baby stuff to be around the apartment, but other than a car seat by the door it looked mostly baby free. Of course, Andrew hadn't had time to buy anything for a baby, had he?

"No problem, don't worry about it," she said. "Bottles are in the fridge, there's a load of laundry to do, and I picked up some Cheerios for him. You sure you're okay?"

Andrew smiled but he looked really tired to Emma. "We'll be fine," he said. "Thanks for being here."

"No problem, he's an angel," she said. She collected her bag and left. Andrew bit his lip and stared at the closed door looking a little anxious and lot lost.

"So…" Emma said. "There's a baby here somewhere?" She clapped her hands together and rubbed them briskly.

"Right," said Andrew, brightening a little. "You should meet Harry."

Emma followed him through the kitchen and into the bedroom. "Like the prince?"

"As in Potter, I'm told," Andrew said. "He was a year old last month, which is lucky for me, I guess, because he naps pretty well. He's not talking much yet, and he cries whenever anyone puts him down."

There was a baby in the middle of the bed, and blankets rolled up like bumpers all around him. He just sort of looked like a little round person to Emma, but she wasn't much of a baby fan. He had chubby little fists and he was sleeping with his mouth wide open. His hair was brown and curly and he was wearing plain blue footie pajamas, and there were a couple of toys just out of his reach.

"I haven't had time to get a cot," said Andrew. "Or a pushchair, or clothes for him, or toys, or—"

"He's really cute," Emma interrupted, because it sounded like Andrew might be having a meltdown. Cot probably meant crib, and pushchair was way cuter than stroller. "You can get all that stuff later."

"Yeah," Andrew said, sitting down on the bed. "Yeah." He put his face in his hands for a second. "I don't suppose you're one of those amazing girls who know all about babies and taking care of them and has a bag full of tricks for minding them."

"Nope," said Emma, sitting down next to him. "I'm one of those girls who likes to hold a baby for about ten seconds and then give it back."

"Right. I was just asking because I haven't got the faintest idea what I'm doing." He laughed ruefully. "This was a terrible, disastrous idea."

"It was really sweet," said Emma, and then changed her mind, because 'sweet' didn't cover it. "It was amazing and selfless."

"Still dumb, though," said Andrew. "Usually when you get a baby you've got months to buy stuff and find a nanny and get prepared. I've got nothing and I'm busy all day and he's already practically a _person_."

"Hey," said Emma, nudging him with her shoulder. "I may not be a baby type of girl, but you know what I kick ass at? Shopping. I'm an all-time gold medal shopper. I would _love_ to trick out your pad."

Andrew perked up a little. "Yeah? That would be brilliant, I can give you my credit card this weekend or something—"

"Dude," said Emma. "Don't insult me. You okay with him for a couple of hours now?" Emma didn't mention that he looked tired enough to drop on the bed and nap with Harry.

"Yeah," said Andrew. "But I can't let you do that. You've just had a really long day as well."

"Not nearly as long as yours," said Emma. "Let's try and figure out what you're going to do about tomorrow. You have to tell Marc, maybe the rest of the production, if you're going to show up places with a kid. You know that, right?"

Andrew shook his head. "If I tell them it'll get out and I'll have to tell the press how I've… How I've accidentally got a baby. I mean, it's not as if I'm Angelina Jolie, is it? What if I've forgotten to cross a T somewhere?" Andrew gave her a pleading look. He was really good at those.

"Fine," she said, "I think I have an idea anyway." She patted him on the arm. Behind them Harry made a fretful, sleepy noise and kicked his feet around a little.

Andrew picked Harry up. The kid hiccuped a couple of times and settled down with his head on Andrew's shoulder and his little hands fisted in Andrew's shirt. "Hey, you," said Andrew fondly.

The baby was giving her a long, considering look, like he could tell she wasn't a baby person and he was judging her. "Hi, buddy," she said. He frowned adorably and turned his face away, back toward Andrew's neck.

"He's shy," said Andrew.

"Maybe," said Emma, thinking that Harry knew what was up. "Do you need anything besides baby stuff?"

"Food? I don't think you're meant to raise a child on take-away."

"Be back shortly," Emma promised. She pulled out her phone and did a quick search for the nearest baby store. "Keep it together until I get back, Garfield."

"I'll do my best," said Andrew.

\--

Jesse hated staying in L.A.. He was more anonymous than he could manage in New York, but it was loud and bright and everyone was incredibly beautiful and wanted to make sure you noticed. Jesse didn't mind getting heckled now and then as he rode his bike around New York, because New York was at least egalitarian. The message was, _You're no better than us._ In L.A. the message was, _You're not as good as us._

It was unavoidable being in L.A. for work, though, so Jesse had the smallest, cheapest place he could find. He hated it. He got stuck there because he had to be in L.A. but he didn't need to be doing much every day, and he ended up just sitting in his apartment and missing his cats. He read and stared at the walls (and hated them) and read and stared at the walls and L.A. didn't get any better.

He was in the middle of a reread of Moby Dick when Emma called, and he thought maybe she'd have news about Andrew so he picked up. "He isn't dead, right?" Jesse said.

"Hello to you, too, Mr. Eisenberg," said Emma. There was a squeal of tires and she leaned on the horn of her car and shouted, "Fuck you too, don't text and drive! God damn, these people in L.A. can't drive. Hey, are you out here, too? Please say yes."

"Yeah, I'm doing some ADR," said Jesse. "I'm also bored out of my mind. I spent two hours a day working and nine hundred hours sitting around."

"Interesting math," said Emma. "So, hypothetically, you could get away now and then?"

"Hypothetically, if you have stuff for me to do it would be my pleasure," said Jesse. "Seriously, anything. You need some help moving? I'm not much help lifting heavy stuff but I can stand around and sweat."

Emma laughed, honked again, and swore under her breath. "Great. Then I have a favor to ask you. It's for Andrew." She honked and shouted at another driver.

"Where are you driving, south central?" Jesse asked.

"The parking lot of a fucking Kids R Us," said Emma. "These mothers are _maniacs_. Okay, cool, when are you free tomorrow for babysitting?"

Jesse bit his lip. "Is something wrong with Andrew?" he asked, running through increasingly dire scenarios. "Is he on drugs? Do you need me to—"

"No, seriously. Actual babysitting."

Jesse could hear the words, but not make sense of them. "So… You're knocked up?"

"Listen, don't freak out, but Andrew has recently come into possession of a baby. And we need someone to watch it."

"Watch it do what?" Jesse asked automatically, and then caught himself. "Wait, how did he get a _baby_? What the fuck?"

"He better tell you himself. He's not handling it super well, but he's really scared he's not handling it well, so don't tell him I said that. You have cats, and those are living things, so I figure you'll be better at this gig than I will."

Jesse tried to formulate an answer and found he couldn't. "I work in the morning," he said. "I could meet you in the afternoon."

"Great! You can take the kid for the afternoon and maybe Andrew won't be as disastrously horrible as he was yesterday. People are going to see those interviews and assume he's either high or the world's biggest asshole."

"Andrew?" Jesse asked incredulously.

"I know, right? But he's all distracted and shit. Okay, I have to go fight this bitch for the last good stroller, I'll text you the deets. See you tomorrow?"

"Okay," said Jesse, feeling a little faint. Emma hung up and he stared at the phone.

Andrew had a _baby_. Was it his? Had he knocked up a fan and gotten hit with a paternity suit? That just… it didn't sound like Andrew. If he'd been sleeping with someone he would have mentioned it when he called Jesse, wouldn't he? They talked all the time, although Jesse wasn't honestly sure why; he almost never had anything interesting to say. He just liked listening to Andrew talk.

Of course, if he had a baby there would probably be a lot less time for phone calls with old friends about nothing, wouldn't there? Jesse frowned. Maybe it was a give-back-able baby.

Or maybe that was a horrible, selfish, nasty thing to think, and Jesse didn't deserve as much of Andrew's attention as he normally got anyway. There was no reason for Andrew to spend as much time as he did chatting with Jesse and calling Jesse and texting Jesse. It really ought to have tapered off by now, anyway.

Jesus Christ, why did Andrew have a _baby_?

\--

Press for Spider-man looked a lot like press for every movie Jesse had ever done, and he experienced a quick spike of panic before he remembered no one was going to ask him any questions. He tried to hide inside his hoodie and not be noticed.

Emma looked great, but Andrew looked stressed and tired. It wasn't a great look on him. There was a baby in a really cool-looking stroller sitting by the door, with a slightly confused PA staring at it. Andrew _actually had_ a baby. Jesse's mind was blown.

As soon as there was a break Emma came over and gave Jesse a hug. Andrew stopped to pick the kid up out of the stroller and walked over, hanging a little behind Emma like… Like he was afraid Jesse might be mad at him, which was seriously the stupidest thing Jesse had ever heard of. "Hey," said Jesse. "Who's that?"

"This is Harry," said Andrew. The baby didn't look anything like him, but he had giant brown eyes and curly baby hair. Jesse felt a little bit like when he saw a sad, shaggy puppy at the vet. He reached automatically and Harry reached back and then somehow Jesse was holding Andrew's baby.

"I don't recall you having a baby last time I saw you," said Jesse. That seemed like a safe way into the conversation. Harry reached up with one fat little hand and tried to yank on Jesse's hair, and Jesse very carefully pried Harry's hand away and let him wrap his hand around Jesse's finger instead.

"No," said Andrew. "It's all been a bit of a shock." He looked at Jesse and then at Harry and tried to put his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans, only they wouldn't fit. "You actually came."

"Of course I came," Jesse said, frowning.

"I mean… This is all a bit… You weren't busy?"

"Not too busy to hear why you have a _baby_ ," said Jesse.

Emma gave Andrew a little shove, and Andrew laughed uncomfortably and explained how he'd ended up with Harry. It didn't make a lot of sense, and it sounded sort of like one of those Victorian novels full of long-lost rich relatives and orphans in poor houses, but Andrew _was_ English, so maybe that kind of thing happened to him more than other people.

Harry mumbled something. "Is he talking to me?" Jesse asked.

"He doesn't talk yet," said Andrew. "Not really. He says hi and bye bye and otherwise he's mostly quiet."

"He hasn't said a word to me," Emma said. "I guess he likes you."

"Oh. Well. That'll make it easier, I guess," said Jesse. He didn't look at Andrew, because there was something very profoundly weird about having Andrew's kid like him.

"You really don't mind watching him?" Andrew asked. "You don't have to. God, I never meant to dump this on either of you."

"I'm done working for the day," said Jesse. "Do you have a diaper bag and stuff?"

Emma pushed over the stroller, with the diaper bag slung over the handle. "He's all yours. You know stuff about babies?"

"I know stuff about humans," said Jesse. "And he's just like a human, but smaller."

Andrew laughed, tired and startled. "Are you really sure you don’t mind? I could… I suppose I could pay you for baby sitting."

"Shut up," said Jesse, looking at Harry. He had given up on trying to yank Jesse's hair and was grabbing for the cord in his hoodie instead. "It's my… I'm happy to help out." It was so pathetically true. He would have done absolutely anything if it had been helpful to Andrew, and it made Jesse feel stupid and helpless and ridiculous.

"I'll call you when we're done," said Emma. "The stroller turns into a car seat if you want to drive him anywhere."

"Oh god," said Andrew. "Wait, you can't cut anyone off if you're driving with him. And don't swear. And don't speed or honk. And—"

"It's going to be fine," said Emma, taking him by the arm. "Come on, they need us back."

Andrew looked like he was going to freak out and demand the baby back so Jesse grabbed the stroller and said, "Great, see you later! Say bye, Harry."

Harry sucked on Jesse's hoodie string and didn't say anything.

\--

Harry wasn't actually related to Andrew but it was hard for Jesse not to speculate on how alike they were. Harry didn't talk, but he did giggle a lot. He was content to sit in his car seat and make a lot of almost-words. Sometimes, when Jesse was especially tired, Andrew's British English sounded a lot like that, too.

"We can go to the park," said Jesse. "That's what people with babies do, isn't it? Take them to the park?" Jesse drove around until he found somewhere with a dog run and benches and then cut four people off to get a parking space. It was okay, he reasoned, because he was doing it for Harry.

The car-seat-stroller was incredibly complicated, with lots of straps and levers and buttons and Jesse spent a while yanking on things and swearing at other things while Harry watched him curiously. Jesse gave up and decided he'd just carry the kid. He slung the diaper bag over one shoulder and grabbed Harry with the other, then discovered Harry had taken his shoes _and_ socks off somehow, and had to put him back down to root around in the back seat for them. They spent a while with Jesse trying to put the shoe on one foot while Harry pulled it off his other foot, but eventually Jesse won and managed to fasten the velcro and everything.

"You're a lot of trouble," Jesse told him, trying for stern and landing somewhere around the voice he used on the cats when they were purring and refusing to give him back his pillow. Harry giggled and Jesse picked him up.

The park was full of nannies and bored-looking moms and yappy little dogs. As soon as Jesse put Harry down a puppy ran by and Harry squealed and toddled after it, and Jesse had to run after both of them. He expected fussy crying but instead Harry looked at him thoughtfully for a minute and sat down in the gravel by the end of the bench and started making piles of rocks.

"He's cute," said a blonde mother, pausing walking with her jogging stroller to push her sunglasses up.

"Thanks," said Jesse, feeling a weird sort of second-hand pride. Third-hand, actually, because Harry wasn't even cute because Andrew was cute. He winced and told himself sternly not to think about Andrew like that. Andrew was a _father_ now. It was rude to lust over someone with actual life responsibilities.

"Is he yours?"

"Uh, I'm kind of… I’m the babysitter," said Jesse. Harry twisted himself around and grabbed Jesse's jeans with both hands, so Jesse picked him up.

"You look familiar," she said, squinting at him.

"Yeah, well. I babysit a lot," said Jesse, ducking his head a little bit. That would be perfect. He wanted to avoid a headline screaming _Oscar Nominee Baby Scandal_. He wasn't sure what was scandalous about the situation, exactly, but Entertainment Tonight would figure something out, and then Andrew would be mad at him.

Harry smacked Jesse's shoulder with his hand a couple of times. "He's hungry," said the mom. "You should feed him before he starts to cry."

"Yeah," said Jesse. He tried to hold on to Harry and fish a baggie of food out of the diaper bag at the same time. It was more complicated than it looked. One-year-olds got heavy fast.

"Are those organic?" the woman sniffed. "You really shouldn't expose him to chemicals, he'll get cancer."

Jesse blinked at her and held the baggie of cheerios open for Harry to stick his hands into. "You know the whole world is made of chemicals, right?" he said. "They're the fundamental building blocks of everything."

"No, I mean _chemicals_ ," she said. "Do you want him to be autistic?"

"Wow, thanks," said Jesse. "I like to take all my health advice from total strangers in the park." She made an outraged noise and jogged off. "Don't listen to anything anyone in L.A. tells you, Harry," Jesse told the kid quietly. "They're all insane. You don't need a tan and you don't need to jog and there's nothing wrong with dessert."

Harry stuffed a lot of cheerios in his mouth and accidentally poured a few hundred more down the back of Jesse's hoodie. "Mah," he said.

"Yeah," said Jesse. "I know, man. Try and get some of those in your mouth."

\--

Harry was perfectly happy to toddle back and forth around the bench or to sit on Jesse's shoulders and flail at all the dogs who ran by. Eventually he was even happy to have a bottle and fall asleep, drooling on Jesse's shoulder. Jesse's arms were tired and he could have put him back in the car seat, but… Well. He just didn't really want to.

Jesse wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Andrew having a baby. It wasn't a girlfriend, at least, and Jesse felt bad about feeling like that, but he did. And then he thought that a baby probably was going to distract Andrew a lot more than a girlfriend would have, so Jesse was kind of screwed either way.

Eventually his phone beeped and Emma sent him Andrew's address. Harry woke up long enough to eat a banana, or really to squish banana all over his shirt, and then Jesse drove them across town.

"No problems, right?" said Emma. "How busy are you tomorrow?"

Jesse was carrying the diaper bag over one shoulder, holding the car seat in one hand, and balancing Harry in his arms all at once. "I, uh," he said. "Well. Not too busy. What?"

"He's not the live-in help," scolded Andrew, reaching for Harry. "God, Jesse, I'm so sorry about today. You're amazing for helping out. I owe you so much." Jesse dropped the baby stuff by the door. There were boxes of baby toys and bags of baby clothes and other baby things everywhere.

"It was fine," said Jesse.

"Were you good for Jesse?" Andrew asked Harry, who yawned a little.

"He was," said Jesse. Harry reached out a banana-covered hand for him, so Jesse grabbed a towel off the floor and wiped it mostly clean. "Now be good for your dad," he told Harry.

Andrew flinched. "I'm not – I can't be – Oh god. Um, I don't have dinner to offer you or anything. You or him. What am I going to do, how am I going to—"

"Relax," said Emma soothingly. "Jesse cooks, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "I can make something. He's old enough to eat regular food, right?"

"I… I think so," said Andrew helplessly. "I've been feeding him jars of baby food, mostly, but I'm nearly out. What if he chokes? What if he's allergic to something? I've done this all wrong, he's going to end up hurt or--"

"I'll make something super bland, like spaghetti," interrupted Jesse. "We'll cut it up in tiny pieces."

"You give him a bath; he looks like he's been through a war," said Emma to Andrew.

"Sorry," Jesse mumbled. He tried to find things in Andrew's kitchen, but there was butter in the cupboard and crackers in the fridge and the pot on the stove had dried green stuff growing in it.

"But I… But Jesse can't…" Andrew started, giving Jesse a funny look he couldn't read. Emma gave him a shove toward the bathroom. "Yeah, I'll just," Andrew said, and carried Harry off.

Emma waited for him to be out of the room before she hissed, "See?"

"See what?" Jesse found a sponge and some soap, so that was a start.

"He's losing his mind."

Jesse glanced over his shoulder to make sure Andrew was in the bathroom with the door closed. "Babies are hard," he said. "Especially surprise babies all on your own."

"People are wondering what's wrong with him."

"And the baby isn't enough of a clue?"

"He hasn't explained the baby to anyone at the studio. He's being very weird." Emma watched Jesse start washing dishes and made no particular move to help, which he actually didn't mind. There was a particular order to dishwashing.

"I can see where it would be kind of a bomb to drop on people," said Jesse.

"Eventually either he's going to give up and realize this is too much work—"

"He wouldn't," said Jesse certainly.

"—or he's going to have to tell people something. If you have a baby with you often enough people start to notice."

"Has he told his agent? He can probably get some advice on how to handle it."

"As far as I know he hasn't told anyone but us."

For a second Jesse felt weirdly proud of that, and then he felt stupid, because Emma had called him, not Andrew. It didn't mean anything anyway. "His parents probably know," Jesse said. He scrubbed a pot thoughtfully. It wasn't feasible to keep a baby secret, but for a while at least they could probably avoid direct questions. "It might be okay. I can watch Harry tomorrow, too, if you guys need." He put water on to boil and started throwing away old take-out containers. The baby was going to get typhoid or something living around all this trash.

"So you'd just give up your spare time to watch Harry?" Emma asked. She was trying to sound casual, and for an actor she was failing pretty hard.

"Sure," said Jesse, crumpling up paper bags and picking out plastic forks to wash. "Andrew's my friend. Plus, I think I mentioned how bored I was."

"Your friend," Emma prompted.

Jesse glared at her briefly. "Yes," he said. "Why, are you planning to have a secret baby and ask me to babysit, too? I might be booked."

Emma leaned forward a little on the kitchen stool. "Friend, or like… I mean. You two were pretty cozy, and he talks about you all the time."

"Andrew talks about his friends a lot," Jesse agreed.

"Jesse. Come on. You two never had any lingering glances? No accidental touches that went on too long? Stolen moments on a dark set together?"

Jesse gave her a long look. "I don't think I'm known for my stolen moments."

Emma made a disgusted noise and dumped an entire box of spaghetti into the pot. It was going to get clumpy, Jesse thought disapprovingly. "He likes you," Emma said.

"Andrew likes everyone," replied Jesse, ignoring all her implications. Jesse tried really hard not to wish for more than solid friendship, because he wasn't going to risk that for anything. Now that Andrew had a baby – there was no way he was going to have time for anything else. It was horrible of Jesse to even consider it.

"Jesseeeee," complained Emma, drawing his name out. "He—"

The bathroom door swung open and Andrew walked out holding Harry. Andrew was pretty soaked and Harry looked at least marginally cleaner. "Everything alright?" Andrew asked. "I'm a bit damp. I need to get some bathtub toys for him, I think, to distract him from trying to drag me in."

"Here," said Jesse, reaching for Harry. "Go put on something dry, god. How did you manage a single day by yourself?" Harry sat on his hip, the one Jesse turned away from the hot stove. Kids liked to grab things.

Andrew looked at him wonderingly. "You're so good with him. He was crying for me and now he's stopped."

"I'm not making him take a bath," Jesse said. "Go, shoo." He waved Andrew away and gave Harry a whisk to bang against the counter.

"You really _are_ good with babies." Emma said. "Wow."

Jesse shrugged. "Would you set out plates, please? I washed some." He would rather have died than admit how much he liked it when Andrew looked at him like that, like he knew something magical instead of just how to balance a kid in one arm while heating up sauce in the microwave. Jesse felt like an enormous fraud on a daily basis, but particularly at that moment. "And hold him while I pour out the boiling water, please." He handed Emma Harry but she held him a little like a bomb that might go off at any second. Not one of nature's babysitters, Jesse decided, and was secretly glad. Otherwise Andrew might not have needed him.

"Smells amazing," said Andrew, wandering back out in his pajamas. They weren't quite staying up on his hips, because Andrew didn't really have any hips, and Jesse told himself firmly that ogling while a baby was in the room was wrong. Also, Emma was watching him. "Emma, give him here. He's not going to explode."

"They scream and cry and poop," said Emma.

"Only if you squeeze them too tightly," Jesse joked, serving everybody. Spaghetti from a box and sauce from a jar. Somewhere his mother knew he was serving jarred sauce and was clutching her chest in mock-pain. He cut Harry's spaghetti up until it was too tiny even for a baby to choke on and put it on a plastic dish.

"You're amazing," said Andrew. He sat down with Harry on his lap and Harry immediately began grabbing spaghetti with both hands. "Oh god, he's going to need another bath. I'm so shit at this."

"He's pretty easy to clean, though," said Emma. "I guess my next trip for you is the grocery store again."

"I'll make you a list," said Jesse.

"Only if you're going to come over and cook it," said Andrew tiredly. "Come on, eat it, Harry, don't just throw it all over everything."

"Sure," said Jesse, mouth mostly on auto-pilot. He could make baby friendly food, and he was sure his mother would have recipes if he called her.

Andrew looked at him. "I was joking."

"Oh," Jesse said. "Me too, then."

"I mean," Andrew tried to explain, "you've already watched him and cooked and I don't know what you were planning to do today but presumably not this. And I couldn't possibly ask you to – I was just kidding, Jesse, you've got a life. This is all my… He's my problem. This disaster is all my fault."

Andrew was giving him a funny pleading look, but Jesse wasn't sure what Andrew was pleading for. More help with Harry? Less? "He doesn't have to be," Jesse offered quietly, looking at his plate.

"God, I've upset you, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" Andrew started. "You think I'm a selfish bastard, now. I'm just so tired, and I can't make any sense out of anything today, I think I'm still jet-lagged. Or maybe it's Harry, waking me up in the middle of the night. Not him, I mean, just me; I get panicked I've forgotten him or forgotten to do something and I wake up with my heart racing. Please don't be cross with me."

"Jesse's not busy, right?" Emma interjected. "And he likes to cook. I say let him cook."

"I could make stuff to keep in the freezer," Jesse said. "You could just heat it up for Harry when you don't have time to cook. Or you could keep ordering Thai food, but I'm not sure that's really great for either one of you."

"I can manage," Andrew insisted.

Emma laughed. "You have this awesome guy who's offering to help and you're getting all weird about it. You weren't expecting this baby shit to happen but it did, so you might as well take whatever help you can get."

Andrew's shoulders slumped a little. "My mum'll be here in a couple of weeks," he said. "She couldn't get away before that."

It sounded defensive to Jesse, but he wasn't sure why Andrew felt the need to defend himself. "I could help out until then," he said. "I'm doing ADR for a little while but after that I'm free." He'd just have to rebook his flight home and arrange for his sister to check on the cats. No big deal.

"I mean," Andrew said. "If you wouldn't mind."

"He wouldn't," said Emma. "Okay? Okay."

Andrew was looking at Jesse again, sort of starry-eyed and grateful and overwhelmed and really, really tired, and Jesse didn't know what to do with all of that so he looked at his plate instead. Harry started to wiggle and fuss. "I'm just going to take him over to the couch," Andrew said, grabbing a bottle. Jesse wiped the most egregious spaghetti sauce off Harry with a napkin as they passed.

Emma winked. Jesse ignored her.

\--

"Uh, he's out cold," said Emma, poking her head in to the living room.

"The big one or the little one?" Jesse asked, washing the last dish. He felt a million times better now that the apartment was mostly clean.

"Both, I think."

"That might be easier to deal with." Jesse put the dish towel down and walked out into the living room. There was a Baby Einstein DVD on but no one was watching it; Andrew was slumped against the back of the couch with his face smushed against the corner. Harry was partly on him and partly on the cushion. He'd kicked his shoes off again. The bottle had rolled out of Andrew's hand and onto the floor where it was making a sad little puddle.

It felt sort of creepy watching them sleep, Jesse thought, but he was enjoying it. That definitely made him creepy.

"If we move Harry will he cry?" whispered Emma.

"Maybe," said Jesse. He picked up Harry, carefully dislodging his hand from Andrew's shirt. He blinked a little and started to cry but he settled down again against Jesse's shoulder as soon as Jesse started to bounce him gently. He carried Harry into the bedroom and put him down in the crib. He fussed for a second and then his breathing evened out and he went back to sleep.

"You're the baby whisperer, Eisenberg," Emma said. "Who knew? And while I'm asking questions, is there some reason you've decided to stare at Andrew all the time instead of hitting it in a hotel somewhere?"

"Shhh," Jesse whispered, trying not to look at her. "Don't wake him up." Emma crossed her arms, and he sighed. "It's not that simple, okay? I couldn't… I don't have a lot of friends like that, and I'm not going to say something stupid and screw it up. Besides, he's kind of busy being a _dad_. New parents don't have time for… for me."

"You're full of crap," Emma whispered. Harry made a choked little crying noise. Jesse glared at her.

"Fine," she said. "Do what you want, even if it's stupid. Can you put the big one to bed, too? I have to go."

"Emma, don't—" Jesse started.

"You're a champ, see you tomorrow!" she said, and was out the door.

Jesse glared after her. He was tempted to follow her out but Andrew was going to have horrible neck pain and Jesse couldn't live with himself if he left him like that. He groaned to himself and walked back out to the living room.

Andrew hadn't moved. Jesse bit his lip and considered for a minute and then decided that Andrew would be too sleepy and confused to argue with him. He pulled the shades down so the living room was dark and got a couple of pillows and a blanket from the bedroom. Then he grabbed Andrew by the ankle and pulled him down so he was actually lying on the couch.

"What's – Jesse, are you—" Andrew started, but they'd shared an apartment for a while and Jesse knew Andrew didn't really wake up very easily or coherently.

"Pillow," Jesse said. "Blanket. I'm going to go crash in your bedroom so if Harry wakes up there's someone there. Okay?"

"You're going to –" Andrew blinked.

"Yeah," said Jesse. "Go back to sleep. If anything happens I got it covered." He dropped the blanket on Andrew and didn't let himself spread it out or look at Andrew's stupid hair being all smushed up on one side or the red line on his face from the couch cushion. "Night."

Andrew was _trying_ to object but he was clearly too tired to work out why. "Yeah," he said. "Okay. You're sure?"

"Go to sleep, Andrew," said Jesse. He went into the bedroom and closed the door. He sent his agent a quick text that he'd be late tomorrow, kicked off his sneakers and pulled the comforter up on the bed so he could lie down on top of it. There was I'm-stealing-your-bed-and-watching-you-sleep creepy and then there was I'm-sniffing-your-sheets creepy. Jesse had lines.

\---

Harry woke up a couple of times, and even though he was happy to go back to sleep after he got a little cuddling it was enough to make Jesse feel bleary and groggy when he finally had to get up in the morning. No wonder Andrew was such a wreck. Uninterrupted sleep, Jesse decided, was a gift not to be overlooked.

Emma had texted that Andrew didn't need to be at the studio for a photoshoot until eleven, so Jesse let him sleep as long as humanly possible. He took Harry to the grocery store and bought some basic food he felt like babies and daddies probably needed, and then went back and made pancakes with blueberry smiley faces. Not that Harry understood what he was eating, necessarily, but it cheered Jesse up.

Eventually Harry got bored and started throwing pancake on the floor so Jesse let him get down and go play in the living room. He was perfectly happy to put all of his blocks into a bucket and then knock the bucket over with a delighted squeal, then start all over again, and he didn't seem to be loud enough to wake up Andrew, so Jesse started cleaning up. He put a couple of pancakes in the oven to keep them warm for Andrew when he woke up later, then felt totally lame and weird about it, like he was a doting housewife or something. But then, he reasoned, Andrew hadn't really eaten dinner and he'd be hungry if he ever woke up. And it wasn't safe to stand around with the oven open and a just-walking baby in the apartment. He made himself leave the pancakes alone and stop freaking out over it.

Just about the very last second before Jesse needed to wake Andrew up Harry lost one of his blocks under the couch and couldn't fish it out. He looked over at Jesse and then at Andrew, eyes filling up with tears, and started tugging on Andrew's hand until Andrew groaned and rolled over.

"S'goin' on?" Andrew slurred, as Harry started crying quietly. "Oh god, are you all right?" Andrew grabbed him and sat up, letting Harry clutch his shirt and hide his face against Andrew's neck. "What happened, is he okay? What time is it? Did something happen?"

Andrew sounded panicky. "No, he just lost a toy," said Jesse. He bit his lip. He didn't know a ton about baby psychology but he suspected Harry was more interested in Andrew picking him up than in getting his block back. "He's been playing, we had breakfast. He's fine."

"How late have I slept?" Andrew asked. "Shit, I'm not late, am I?"

"You have time for a shower and some breakfast," said Jesse, "if you start moving right now. Uh, I'm starting to feel a little bit like Genie and you'd be Major Nelson, and that's weird, so I'm not going to mention that I made you pancakes, okay?"

Andrew just blinked at him for a second. "Right," he said, "okay, I wasn't expecting you to ever have a pop-culture reference I didn’t know. I'll get dressed and you can – No, he doesn't want me to put him down, does he? Okay, come on, Harry, you can help me pick out socks."

Jesse wished there were something else to clean. He was a little worried Harry would start to cry again when Andrew left and then Andrew wouldn't want to go. "You need to call your agent," Jesse yelled. "Figure out how you're going to tell people you're a dad."

"I'm not a— I really don't feel qualified for that word," Andrew shouted back. " I'll call him later. That's the first time I've slept more than two hours in a week. You're amazing! I keep saying that, but honestly, I think you've saved my life. How can I possibly thank you?"

"I'm not busy anyway," Jesse mumbled, feeling weird again. "It's no big deal."

"It's a tremendous deal," said Andrew, walking back out with Harry clutching his neck. "You've no idea. My life is turned upside down and you've charged in to help. He's a bit of a limpet today, I'm afraid. Will you be all right with him?"

"We get along just fine," said Jesse. He glanced out the window. "I'll trade you the kid for some food and then you should go. Your ride from the studio is here." He pried Harry off Andrew's neck and Harry made a face like he was going to cry, lip trembling.

Andrew stuffed most of a pancake in his mouth and grabbed his jacket. "Please don't cry, I'll be back soon, you'll be okay with Jesse, he's wonderful, I promise. Loads of fun and he can cook. Oh, Harry. You didn't cry at all yesterday, did you?" He kissed Harry's cheek and tickled his side a little, but Harry just turned away and clutched Jesse's hoodie. Andrew looked mildly devastated. "I could call Marc and say I'm sick—" he started.

"You're going to go and he'll be fine," said Jesse. "I'll call you later; you can talk to him on the phone or something. Don't freak out. We'll go to the dog park and he won't even remember he was sad."

Andrew chewed on his lower lip and hovered for a minute, so obviously torn between leaving and not leaving that Jesse just grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the door. "Go," he ordered. "If you get upset he'll just cry more."

"Bye," said Andrew. "Harry, bye. God, he won't even _look_ at me."

"Go," Jesse repeated, shoving Andrew out the door. "I have your house key; call me when you need to come home, okay? Bye." He shut the door before Andrew could change his mind.

Harry picked his head up and mumbled, "Bye bye."

"Too little too late, kid," Jesse said. Harry snorted and put his head back down.

\--

Emma would not have been surprised by any of the following:

\- If Andrew hadn't shown up to this round of interviews because he was still asleep and Jesse had decided not to wake him up.

\- If Andrew hadn't shown up to this round of interviews because he refused to go out without Harry.

\- If Andrew hadn't shown up to this round of interviews because he and Jesse had run off to Vegas together to get married and be Harry's new adopted daddies.

She was mildly disappointed that Andrew showed up only ten minutes late and not looking at all ravished. In her head Andrew and Jesse were living out some kind of torrid Harlequin book with one of those amazing titles, like The Billionaire's Greek Mistress or something. The Oscar Nominee's Accidental Baby Daddy, or maybe Spider-man Finds A Baby (And Love). But Andrew looked well-rested, at least, and that was something. She tried not to pout too obviously.

Andrew was pleasingly coherent and smiley again. Every time they had a free second, though, he took out his phone and stared at it like it was particularly worrying. "What?" Emma asked.

"I don't know how soon I can call without seeming like I don't trust Jesse to look after him," said Andrew, pocketing his phone again.

Emma laughed. "If _anyone_ understands neurotic worrying, it's Jesse."

"But I _do_ trust him," Andrew said determinedly. "It's just. Harry was crying this morning when I left."

"Aww," said Emma. "That's great." Andrew stared at her, horrified. "I mean, because that shows he likes you and he's getting used to you," she clarified. "It must be a big adjustment, going from his mom to you, so it's a good thing he wants you to stick around, right? Maybe he's even starting to think of you as his daddy."

"Oh god," said Andrew, wincing. "That's… I'm not prepared for that. What if I do something _wrong_?"

Emma bit back the urge to shout, _You were supposed to think of that before you took him home, you idiot_. "Well, what if you do?" she said. "At least you're not on drugs or in jail."

"You aren't very comforting," Andrew said accusingly.

"You get what you get, Garfield," she said, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "With great power comes great responsibility, or did you forget that?"

Andrew laughed a little. "Shut up. Spider-man just gets his girlfriends killed now and then, he doesn't ruin children's lives."

They were being waved back over to do more press. "Speaking of," Emma said quickly. "Where did Jesse sleep last night?"

Andrew looked a little confused. "I slept on the couch so… My bed, I think?"

"Alone?" Emma asked, disappointed.

"Harry's cot is in there as well," he offered. She sighed and shook her head. "What?" Andrew asked. "I would have insisted on taking the couch anyway, if I'd been awake enough."

"Next time ask him if he wants to cuddle, instead," Emma said.

Andrew choked a little. "If he – What? With Harry or with me?"

Emma just glared at him until he started to blush and then, luckily for him, the interviews began.

\--

"Chicken fingers and french fries," said Jesse. "All kids universally like them."

"That please," said Andrew, smiling at the waitress who was making faces at Harry. Emma had tried to excuse herself from the meal about fourteen times but Andrew kept giving her these _looks_ and she kept folding. Damn his big brown eyes anyway.

"I want some wine," said Emma. "Don't glare at me; I'm not babysitting. I can drink whatever I want."

Andrew had Harry on his lap and the waitress had brought him some crayons which he was using enthusiastically, if mostly on the table instead of the paper place mat. "Was today okay?" Andrew asked.

"You called them seven times," Emma mumbled into her wine.

"He was good," said Jesse. "He's a good kid. He came with me when I did some recording and he chewed on a book for a while. He's smart, too; he wanted to eat the cardboard copy of Anna Karenina way more than the cardboard copy of Twilight."

Andrew cracked up. "You did _not_ have either of those."

"Well, no," said Jesse, grinning at him. "But I'm thinking of starting a company that makes cardboard copies of classics. It's never too early to start kids reading. Except Twilight. It's always too early for that. "

"Don't talk crap about that," Andrew laughed. "I'll tell Rob and he'll tell Kristen and she'll kick your arse."

"I'm not afraid of her," Jesse said. "Well, yeah, okay. She's pretty wiry. Fine. Maybe I'll start with some cardboard copies of Wuthering Heights, or maybe The Brothers Karamazov."

Emma looked at Jesse, telling increasingly obvious lies, and Andrew, laughing delightedly at him, and wondered how they could possibly both be so stupid all the time. Sure, the kid was kind of problematic as far as just jumping in the sack, but they could work around that. She looked at Harry, who was chewing thoughtfully on a crayon and watching them, too. "Right?" Emma whispered to him.

The waitress came back with their plates. Harry gnawed happily on tiny cut up piece of chicken while Andrew tried to eat over and around him.

"I can't wait to see Spider-man," the waitress said, smiling at Andrew. "I'm an actress, and I just loved you in Never Let Me Go. So great."

Andrew fished a crayon out of Harry's lap. "Thanks," he said.

"What a cute little boy," she added. "Whose is he?"

Emma looked at Jesse, and Jesse shrugged and looked at Andrew. Andrew looked a little bit taken aback. "Mine," said Andrew, tightening an arm around Harry.

"Oh," she said. "That's really sweet. You're a sweetheart, aren't you?" She waved at Harry. He waved back and dropped a mangled chicken nugget on Andrew.

"Could I get some more water?" Jesse asked, loudly and just a little bit brusquely. He glared until she left. "You know she's going to tell everyone she's ever met that Spider-man has a baby, right?"

Andrew bit his lip and fidgeted for a minute. Emma tried to figure out how much it would cost to buy the waitress off, and if that failed, put out a hit. From the look on Jesse's face he was thinking along the same lines. "I have to say something eventually," Andrew said, not sounding entirely convinced. "Joe's looking into it, how to break the news without making it a big deal. And in the meantime I don't want Harry to think I'm ashamed of him."

"He doesn't even speak English yet," Emma pointed out.

Jesse kicked her under the table. "He knows," Jesse said. "He missed you all day."

Andrew smiled at him, a little bit sadly. "Hopefully I'm just not that interesting. People manage to do all kinds of things and still stay out of the public eye, don't they? Matt Damon's got a whole life like a normal person."

"It means you can't live in L.A.," Emma said.

Andrew shrugged. "Jesse doesn't live in L.A. and he does alright."

"Well, that's because I couldn't stand to move away from my family for the sake of work," Jesse said.

"I could live in England. Or in Brooklyn," Andrew mused. "It's pretty cool there and everyone's got a baby. We could be neighbors." He smiled at Jesse and Jesse smiled helplessly back. Emma wanted to kick both of them under the table, but she drank more wine instead.

\--

Everything was fine until they were on their way out of the restaurant. "You can't stay over tonight," Andrew told Jesse firmly. "You've got your own apartment and you deserve to get some real sleep."

"But I'm not really working anymore, so it doesn't matter," Jesse argued, pulling out his keys.

"I couldn't ask you to do that, you've already—" Andrew started.

"Hey!" someone shouted. "Jesse, Andrew, Emma! Over here!" There was a bright flash of light.

"What the hell?" Emma said, squinting as she turned. They were at a cheap chain restaurant, not anywhere trendy, and she'd been sure the paparazzi wouldn't have staked the place out. But there was an asshole in a jacket with a giant camera, shouting and waving and snapping pictures.

Harry flinched and buried his face against Andrew's chest, and Andrew instinctively turned his back on the light. Emma spent a split-second deciding whether the bad press of losing her shit at a photographer was worth it and decided, yeah, she wouldn't mind being a headline about assault if she got to punch the guy, but Jesse was already there. She'd rarely ever seen Jesse mad before. It was a little shocking.

"Leave them alone," Jesse said flatly, getting up in the guy's face. He wasn't touching him, just trying to block his view of Andrew and Harry.

"Whose baby is Spider-man holding, Jesse?" the photographer asked. "Have any dirty little secrets to share?"

"Dude, back off," Jesse said. He didn't sound angry unless you knew him really well, in which case the total lack of friendliness was a dead giveaway.

"I just want some pictures. Andrew, hold the baby up! Hey, kid! Hey! Emma, is that your baby? Did you and Andrew hook up on set? Anything to tell me?"

Emma grabbed Jesse's keys and pulled the doors to his car open, pushing Andrew and Harry in the back. The she turned around and grabbed Jesse before he could decide to do anything, because the idea of Jesse getting in a fight with a photographer was sort of sad. "Ignore him," she hissed, trying not to flinch at the lights going off in her face.

"You're a jerk," Jesse said, pointing. That was going to be a great picture, she thought. Emma handed him the keys and pulled him back to the car. There was a second where she thought maybe Jesse was going to run the guy down, since he was a pretty ragey driver anyway. Instead he leaned on the horn and gunned the engine as he swerved around him.

"How's the kid?" Emma asked, turning around.

Andrew was holding one of Harry's hands and fastening the car seat straps. "He's crying. I think he was scared." Andrew made a cooing noise and Harry calmed down a little. Emma was grateful no one had asked her to hold Harry; she had absolutely no instincts for cheering babies up and she didn't like it when they leaked on her. Andrew, though, was naturally good at cheering people up, even tiny ones. He dangled a plush toy over Harry's face until Harry reached up for it and the crying turned to tired sniffles.

"He's okay," said Jesse quietly. "He'll be fine."

"I can't do that," said Andrew, not looking away from Harry. "I can't have people shouting at us and taking pictures. I'm going to quit Hollywood and go and work at Starbucks, in Nepal or somewhere."

"That's a great idea," said Emma dryly. "Definitely not at all irrational and ridiculous."

"He was _scared_ ," Andrew said.

"I'll stay with him again tomorrow," said Jesse. "He knows me now, kind of, so it'll be fine." He slammed on the brakes a lot more gently than he usually did.

Andrew sighed. "You shouldn't feel like you have to do this for me – for us, I mean. Today was already so kind of you. How can I hand him over to you and expect him to know me?"

"He knows you," said Jesse. "Trust me. He lights up when you come home. Stop saying I'm being kind like I'm a stranger or something."

"Sorry," Andrew winced. "I've run out of ways to say thank you." Andrew tilted his head back tiredly against the seat. "What am I going to do?"

Emma patted him on the knee. "You're going to do the last couple of days of publicity and then you have the weekend off to gear up for the premiere next week. And Jesse and I are going to stick around and help you out whether you like it or not."

"But I—"

"I'm done with ADR," said Jesse. "I'm up for some full time nannying. My mom will tell you I only dyed my sister's hair pink one time, and the day I lost her at the zoo was definitely not my fault."

"Yes, but—"

"I can look for apartments in New York, if you seriously want to get away," Emma interrupted. "And we can figure out how to drop this in the news when it'll get swallowed by something else. I'll find out when Gaga's going to wear a live animal as a hat and you won't even make TMZ."

Andrew laughed tiredly. "Fine. You win. Yes, please, fix my life and make everything work and make sense again. You're in charge. Handle it."

Emma held her fist out toward Jesse. "Team Get Shit Done," she said.

Jesse bumped his fist against hers. "Best team ever."

\--

Jesse dropped Emma off and then took Harry and Andrew back to Andrew's apartment and very quietly ignored all of Andrew's hints that he could go back to his own place. He could have. He was perfectly aware. But he wasn't working and Andrew was, and Emma had pinched him on the leg and hissed, "Make sure he's not a zombie tomorrow," and that was enough for Jesse to feel justified in not leaving. With most people Jesse wouldn't have noticed all the funny sideways looks and lip biting. He was just a little more aware of Andrew than most people. He didn't want to think about why.

Andrew watched Harry sleeping in his crib. "I don't like it when he cries," Andrew said. "I don't know what to do."

"They cry," said Jesse. "It doesn’t mean you're doing anything wrong."

"I feel like it must," Andrew said. "Are you… So, now are you going to—"

"I can sleep on the couch," Jesse offered, ignoring the way Andrew was looking at him. "Why don't we roll the crib out to the living room so you can sleep? You're taller than me anyway. It would be weird if you were all scrunched up on the couch in your own apartment."

"I'm not that much taller," Andrew objected, but he let Jesse move the crib and shoo him off to bed. It was a new, weird feeling for Jesse, being mostly in charge of someone else, and he was pretty sure at some point Andrew would stop letting him bulldoze his way through his life. It made him feel like there was more space inside his chest than usual.

Andrew lingered in the door of his bedroom, biting his lip again. He was terrible at being rude or confronting anyone. After a minute or two he gave up and went to bed without trying to insist that Jesse should leave and Jesse felt entirely too pleased with himself when he curled up on the couch.

\--

Harry, Jesse suspected, was a really, really smart baby. As soon as he'd realized crying made Andrew give him whatever he wanted he started crying over absolutely everything. "I'm on to you," Jesse told him sternly. Harry picked up a spoon and banged it against the table a few times, spattering oatmeal all over both of them. "If you stop with the crocodile tears I'll take you to the dog park and let you chase that terrier all over the place, okay?"

Harry was uninterested in a truce. As soon as Andrew walked out with his jacket to leave for the day he burst into tears.

"He's fine," Jesse said, but Andrew had already picked Harry up and started cuddling him. Harry immediately stopped crying, which confirmed Jesse's suspicions that Andrew had somehow adopted a tiny ruthless supervillain. A cute one, sure, but definitely a supervillain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Andrew said. He looked helplessly at Jesse. "He wasn't crying like this before. I've done something, I've _broken_ him—"

"He knows a sucker when he sees one," said Jesse. Andrew gave him a horrified look. "No, seriously. He can tell you're a big softie. Give him back." He pried Harry away and ignored the way the baby started to hiccup and cry again. "Get out of here before he traps you in his web of lies."

"That's a _baby_ you're talking about," said Andrew uncertainly.

"I'm kidding," Jesse said. "Relax. He's got me wrapped around his finger too, I promise. My tough-guy façade doesn't even fool a one-year old."

Andrew laughed. "You might not get cast as Rambo any time soon."

"God, I hope not," said Jesse. "I'd have to take my shirt off. Will you leave, please? I don't want to spoil him until you go."

"Fine," said Andrew. "Bye." He ducked down to kiss Harry goodbye and then he looked up at Jesse and there was a weird second where Jesse was _sure_ Andrew was going to kiss him, too. All the air had vanished from the room. Andrew was staring at him, mouth a little bit open, eyes wide, and everything fell into slow motion and Andrew leaned forward and –

\--jerked back. "I should go," said Andrew, flushing a little. "I'm late. I'll… I'll see you both later."

"Bye bye," said Harry, waving with one hand. Andrew beamed at him and left.

Jesse blew out a huge breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "That was weird," he told Harry. "Let's not do that again." Harry wasn't interested in talking or being held anymore, though, and wiggled until Jesse put him down to play with his blocks. Jesse waited until his hands stopped shaking to go wash the breakfast dishes.

\--

"What do you mean you're not coming home?"

"I mean," said Jesse, switching the phone to his other ear, "I'm staying in L.A. for an extra couple of weeks."

"Are you dying?" his mother asked flatly. "Should I fly out there to check on you?"

"Mom, no, I'm just… Andrew had kind of an emergency and I'm helping out. Don't eat that, that's not good for you." He took the DVD case away from Harry and Harry glared at him.

"Honey?"

"Oh, not you. The baby."

He could _hear_ her narrowing her eyes. It was amazing. "The baby?"

"The… Listen, I'm not really supposed to tell anyone about this."

She didn't say anything, but she didn't really have to. Jesse knew exactly what face she was making. He picked up Harry and moved him away from the stack of DVDs he was attempting to eat. Harry made an outraged little noise and kicked, so Jesse put him in his high chair and grabbed the bag of cheerios that worked way better than any pacifier.

"Andrew has a baby," said Jesse, sighing. "And I offered to sit. Okay?"

"I'm almost sure I should have heard about this before now."

"No, it was – It was kind of a surprise. To Andrew. To me, too, obviously. But he's a nice baby, hang on." Jesse snapped a picture with his phone and emailed it to her. "See?"

"See what? Oh, the phone beeped! What was that?"

"I sent you a picture."

"But you're talking to me! How can I see it? How do I—" The phone went dead. Jesse rolled his eyes a little and waited for her to call back. "He is very cute."

"Right? Andrew needed a hand because he's busy. I'm not."

There was a long pause. Harry started fussing and throwing food on the floor. Jesse tried to persuade him that he wanted a bottle but Harry pushed it away and started kicking again.

"Honey," said Jesse's mom. "Is that all this is?"

"Of course," Jesse said. "Andrew's a friend and he needed a hand." He tried to shush Harry by shaking a toy at him but Harry started to cry.

"Okay, first, that sounds like a fussy baby who needs a nap," said Jesse's mother. "Pick him up, check his diaper, and put him to bed. Poor little munchkin."

"I am," said Jesse, trying to pick up Harry and balance the phone at the same time. Harry squirmed and threw his head back and did everything in his power to make Jesse drop him, but Jesse hung on grimly and tried not to feel guilty for making the baby wail as he carried him into the bedroom. "Shh, Harry, c'mon buddy, shh, please don't freak out, I'm trying."

"He's just tired. I know a tired cry when I hear one. Second, honey, I just have to wonder. Do you—"

"Mom, I need to change Harry and put him down, I'll call you later, okay? I love you."

"Fine," she said, adopting that don't-mind-me-what-do-I-know-I'm-only-your-mother-so-break-my-heart-why-don't-you tone she knew drove him nuts. "Have fun, honey, and send Andrew my love." That was secret code, Jesse knew, for all kinds of things, but he chose to ignore it. Harry was genuinely starting to scream while trying to throw himself off the bed.

"I will," Jesse promised and hung up. He usually told her everything and talked to her every day, and he felt like crap for having only called her once that week. The problem was she'd read quite a bit into his descriptions of Andrew and she'd even met him once and said something like, "Oh, I wouldn't mind some grandkids, you know," as if that was at _all_ appropriate to say to Jesse's co-star. When he went home again he was going to catch an earful about this whole escapade. Better to save it for then, he figured.

Getting Harry to bed was an Olympic challenge, and Jesse was fairly sure he wasn't getting any kind of medal or award unless it was a "thanks for trying" pat on the back. Harry didn't want to lie down, and he didn't want Jesse to put him down, and every time Jesse tried he screamed louder. Eventually Jesse gave up and carried him out to the couch where he could lie on Jesse's stomach and doze off, then wake himself back up with a little jerk and start crying again.

Jesse must have dozed off too because when he blinked Andrew was there, picking Harry up. "He might have rolled off the couch," Andrew said, not sounding at all mad.

"You're at work," Jesse said blearily. "Aren't you? Do you have a transporter?"

Andrew laughed. "I've got a driver who didn't mind spending lunch taking me home. Good thing, too. I can see how all that stern discipline is working out for you."

"With cats you can lock them in the bathroom for an hour until they calm down. I wanted to get your permission before I tried that with him." He sat up and rubbed his eyes under his glasses for a minute. There was food and baby snot on his t-shirt and he felt gross and gritty all over.

"Maybe we should buy a book on babies before we try that," said Andrew. "Just to see if that's a recommended method. Oh, you're awake now, are you? Good morning, sweetheart." Andrew carried Harry into the kitchen and Jesse trailed after him. "No, don't help, Jesse. Eventually it'll be just me and him and I ought to get used to that. I can manage. I'm not completely useless. I've made myself lunch for years, I can do this, too." He pointed sternly to a chair and Jesse sat back down.

"I'm not here because I think you can't handle it," said Jesse. "Sorry if that's the impression you got."

Andrew pulled food out of the fridge. Food Jesse and Emma had bought, Jesse thought, but didn't point out. "There's just not a single person alive who'd think this was a good idea, and yet here I am. Half the time I think this was a terrible idea and the other half the time I'm sure it was."

"Okay, but, as an expert catastrophizer, someone who can make a worst-case scenario out of literally anything, can I just say that he was _in_ the worst-case scenario before you? You're the guy who loves him so much you upended your entire life to make things better for him. I'm pretty sure he couldn't have a better dad."

Andrew made a face. "I don't know what to do about that word."

"…better?"

Andrew bumped Jesse with his hip as he walked past, looking for something on the table. "Dad. I'm not his dad. I don't know where his dad is. Maybe he can just call me Andrew. That'd be simpler, wouldn't it?"

"But you _are_ his dad," said Jesse. "I mean, I'm all for telling him the truth about being adopted, but… If he doesn't have you he doesn't have anyone." Somehow that was the wrong thing to say, because Andrew looked absolutely miserable. Jesse stumbled on. "I'm not convinced any parent gets everything right. Please don't tell my mom I said that. But I mean… You love him, right?"

Andrew bit his lip and nodded.

And that right there was why Jesse was so hopelessly ridiculous over Andrew. It wasn't enough that he was funny and smart and handsome and everything else; he was genuinely a _good person_. "Okay then," said Jesse. "You're a dad."

Andrew flushed a little. "Shut up. Where are my plates?"

"Your cupboards were all disorganized so I rearranged them," said Jesse.

"Well?" Andrew asked. Harry had woken up enough to start squirming a little. "Are you going to tell me where they are?"

"You wanted to make lunch yourself…"

"I hate you," Andrew laughed. "Get up and help me, you lazy bastard."

Jesse grinned at him and showed him how he'd rearranged the drawers and cupboards to make way more sense and Andrew pretended to bitch and complain about having his things moved and Harry clung to Andrew's neck with one hand and chewed on Jesse's hoodie string quietly.

\--

When Andrew got home late that night they sat around on Andrew's couch watching a movie Emma had bought for them until Harry dozed off.

"I'll just put him down," said Andrew, pushing the crib back into the bedroom. Jesse meant to help but he was tired from chasing a toddler around a dog park all day and instead he just sat on the couch like a lump until Andrew got back. "Sorry I didn't…" Jesse said, waving a hand around vaguely.

"I couldn't do any of this without you," said Andrew, sitting down next to him. "Have you got any idea what this movie is about?"

"Princesses? I don't know, I was too tired to pay attention."

"Ugh, me too," said Andrew, yawning. "Should we call it a night? I… I suppose you're not going back to yours."

"My apartment is in New York, so no. That seems kind of far."

"Shut up, you know what I mean," said Andrew. "Fine, I won't argue with you now. Good night." He patted Jesse on the thigh and Jesse kicked his sneakers off and didn't bother to brush his teeth or move or anything before he dozed off.

Sometime in the middle of the night Harry started to cry. Jesse flailed awake with the vague idea that he could get to Harry before he woke Andrew up. He stumbled into the bedroom to find Andrew already crawling out of bed to get Harry.

"He's fine," said Andrew. "He just wakes up and wants someone to be there." He rubbed Harry's back for a minute until Harry quieted again.

"Right," said Jesse, feeling stupid. He probably should leave Andrew alone to handle his own baby. But now he was sort of awkwardly standing in the door of Andrew's bedroom. He was an idiot.

"No, s'okay," yawned Andrew, crawling back into bed. "Come here."

Jesse shuffled a couple of steps into the bedroom and stopped. "You… You want me to take Harry out to the living room?" he hazarded.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're kidding all the time or if you really mean these dumb things you say," Andrew said. He flipped the blankets back on the other side of the bed. "Come on. I don’t snore, I don't think."

"Oh, I…" Jesse said faintly. "Um. I."

"We can take turns getting up if he wakes up. Honestly, I can't sleep thinking about you out on the couch. I know it's not comfortable. Jesse, _please_?"

There was literally nothing Jesse could imagine saying to that. Andrew was looking at him expectantly and half-asleep and Jesse… Well. He wasn't a good enough person to say no to Andrew. Not ever, apparently. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, thinking he could just wait for Andrew to doze off and then go back out to the couch, but Andrew grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

"Plenty of room," Andrew mumbled. "See?"

Jesse was sure he'd never get any sleep this close to Andrew, but he sighed a little and obligingly pulled the blankets up over both of them. He thought, _I'll just wait for Andrew to doze off, it won't be more than ten minutes_ , and tried to relax. Andrew's hand was burning hot, still resting on Jesse's arm.

Andrew didn't snore but he did snuffle a little bit, and he hadn't moved his hand so Jesse had to lie there, perfectly still in the dark listening to Andrew and Harry breathe, until he forgot to keep count and drifted off himself.

\--

A phone bleeped and tore Jesse out of a dream where he was sitting on the beach trying to convince the coast guard that whales could talk. He thought blearily that the phone was going to wake up the baby and flailed around for it with his eyes mostly closed.

"What?" Jesse said. The buttons felt all wrong.

"Yo!" said Justin's unmistakable voice. "Nice picture in the paper, dude."

"What?" Jesse said again. "What do you want?" He tried to sit up and realized that Andrew was snuggled up against his side with his arm over Jesse's chest. Sheer panic shot through him, waking him up immediately.

"Andrew?" Justin asked, sounding confused.

"No, it's Jesse," Jesse corrected him automatically, and then realized the buttons felt wrong because he'd answered Andrew's phone. "Whoops. Hang on, I can get him. He's right here."

"Huh," said Justin. "Sooooooo. You're answering each other's phones first thing in the morning now?"

"I… I mean… I didn't want it to wake up the baby," said Jesse, and then winced. So he wasn't _entirely_ awake, or else his mouth was awake but his brain was clearly still not.

Justin started cackling. "Dude," he said. "You're in bed right now, aren't you?"

"Uh," said Jesse, elbowing Andrew a little. Andrew made a sleepy noise and tightened his arm over Jesse. Jesse didn't entirely have the heart to wake him up on purpose. He was pressed up against Jesse's side and so warm and nice to have there, but it wasn't helping Jesse concentrate on saying the right things at all. "Hey, wake up," he said half-heartedly.

Andrew mumbled, "Not yet," and tried to burrow under the blankets without really moving.

"That was Andrew! You're in bed with him!" Justin said gleefully. "Dude! This is the greatest phone call _ever_! Armie owes me fifty bucks."

"Not like that!" said Jesse.

Justin was too busy celebrating loudly on the other end to listen. "Oh man. Oh _man_! This is great. I was just gonna call and ask why you guys had dinner without me, but now I get it. No need to have a third wheel on your date."

"What are you talking about? Justin, stop _cackling_ ," said Jesse. He elbowed Andrew more sharply.

"You're on TMZ, my friend. You two and Emma and a baby. How come you adopted and you didn't tell me? I mean, I get if you're making someone else godfather, I guess, but how come I didn't even get a phone call? I thought we were bros."

Jesse moaned. "Is it all over the news?"

"Nah, just a short article about the Social Network crew catching up. Which is why I was insulted not to be invited. But _now_ I see what happened."

"You are one hundred percent wrong," said Jesse. "Would you just listen for a second? We… Andrew, what do you want me to tell Justin?"

"Tell him to fuck off," Andrew said indistinctly. "It's early."

Justin's big mouth and assumptions were going to ruin Andrew's day when he finally woke up enough to realize what was going on. "Listen, are you in LA? We can meet for lunch and explain what's going on. It's not… Andrew and I aren't together." Andrew pushed the blanket away and blinked sleepily at him. "Can I just talk to you later, when we're awake? God, I mean when _I'm_ awake."

"Don't let me keep you when you're busy in bed," Justin said gleefully. "Lunch, dude. Don't be late."

Jesse hung up Andrew's phone and looked at him guiltily. "I’m sorry. Justin's being an idiot. He always assumes the worst, and I picked up your phone so he thought… But I mean. It's not. And I'll make sure he knows we're absolutely not, uh. Not dating. I think we have to tell him about Harry, though, because paparazzi pictures went up on TMZ."

"Oh," said Andrew. "Well." He squinted curiously. "How will you explain being in my bed?"

Jesse had no idea, now that Andrew mentioned it. His heart was thumping against his ribs. Andrew was so busy with the baby and Spider-man and his entire life being changed that he shouldn't have to put up with Jesse being a nervous wreck with a stupid crush around him, too. Justin was definitely going to cause trouble; he loved a juicy rumor like nothing else. Jesse was complicating Andrew's life instead of helping him.

Jesse scrambled out of bed and tried to stop blushing. Nothing had happened except some inadvertent snuggling, but his body was reacting to waking up touching someone else in ways Jesse hadn't authorized. Particularly because that someone else was Andrew. Jesse needed to be out of bed before Andrew noticed. "I'll uh. I'll say it was for the baby," Jesse said. "Or something. I don't know. I'm sorry!"

Andrew yawned and stretched and his t-shirt was riding up and there was a patch of bare skin between the waistband of his pajama pants and his shirt that Jesse should _not_ have been looking at. "Oh," he said. "Obviously, since Harry's here, you… I mean, you wouldn't… Did you sleep well? I think that was the best rest I've had for ages."

"I slept better on the couch," Jesse lied. Andrew looked a little – confused? Surprised? Not awake yet? It was hard to say, and Jesse wasn't used to Andrew being hard to read. "You definitely snore, and you steal all the blankets, too," he blurted, because it sounded better than explaining why he was terrified Andrew might invite him to sleep with him again.

"Sorry," said Andrew, frowning.

"No, it's fine, it was a dumb idea anyway, I mean, look what happened when Justin called. I should – I should have slept on the couch, or gone back to my apartment. You were right, this was rude of me, I'm intruding on your space with Harry."

"Oh," said Andrew. "That's not… That's not what I meant, but…" He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, which was sticking up in every direction. "I'm sorry I dragged you in here."

" _I'm_ sorry," said Jesse. He grabbed Harry, who was just starting to wake up. "I'll go make breakfast." Jesse bolted out into the kitchen.

\--

All of Jesse's skin felt too tight, like it had been put on backwards or the wrong way around, and there was a buzzing sensation in his fingertips he couldn't shake. His brain had a habit of flashing through worst-case scenarios anyway, but this time it was choosing to loop around and around the what-ifs of waking up in bed with Andrew. What if Justin hadn't called? What if Andrew had woken up first and realized how they'd been cuddled together? What if Jesse had turned his face to look at Andrew and Andrew had started to wake up and their mouths had accidentally brushed and—

What if Andrew realized Jesse was creepy and some sad, desperate part of him had only offered to help with Harry so he could spend more time around Andrew? Jesse gave Harry an apologetic little hug and Harry yanked on his hair, possibly out of spite. "I think you're pretty great, even if you are an evil little mastermind," Jesse said. He offered Harry a bowl of baby oatmeal that Harry promptly stuck both hands into. Then he reached up and got oatmeal handprints all over Jesse's t-shirt. "No, I still like you," Jesse said. "Even if you ruin all my clothes."

"You two have the most interesting conversations," said Andrew, walking in. He was dressed and there were no more patches of bare skin showing all the muscle he'd put on for Spider-man, thank god, although Jesse was so far gone that there was something about his bare neck and the way his hair had grown out and started curling over his collar that drove Jesse crazy.

"I'm, um. I'm trying to bolster his self-esteem," said Jesse. "Do you want breakfast?"

"I can heat up a frozen waffle as well as you can," said Andrew. "We're having lunch with Justin? I wonder what kind of babysitter he'd be."

Harry threw his spoon on the floor. "Yeah," Jesse agreed, "Harry and I are voting no on that."

Andrew laughed. "You don't think it'd be sort of hilarious? Justin run ragged and dealing with a tiny tyrant who doesn't have any interest in his charm?"

"You heard me talking to Harry?"

"Indeed," Andrew said gravely, "and I shall never forgive you. I think he's more like a dictator for life, myself. And a mess. God, how does he get food _everywhere_ like this?" Andrew grabbed a washcloth and dampened it in the sink so he could wipe Harry's face and hands off. Harry squealed and kicked and accidentally threw his bowl of oatmeal all over Jesse. "Oh no!" said Andrew, horrified, and grabbed at Jesse's shirt.

Jesse was already feeling oversensitized and on-edge, and Andrew's hands brushing against his stomach – Christ, that was his nipple, those were Andrew's fingers on his nipple – made his brain short out. He jumped out of range of Andrew's hands. "I've got it—I'm fine, I'm, oh my god, I'm okay, please don’t."

"Sorry," said Andrew. He sat down heavily. "I'm just screwing everything up today, apparently. I'm sorry about dragging you to bed last night and I'm sorry I've kept you here and I'm sorry I've made you uncomfortable. I wish I'd… I mean, before Harry, I wish… Only now, obviously, it's too late and I'm screwing everything up and please don't be cross with me."

He looked miserable. Jesse felt a little like he was dying from guilt. " _I'm_ sorry, okay? I just want to be helpful and I'm stressing you out instead."

"That's ridiculous," said Andrew. "You always make me feel better. Always."

Was it possible to die from guilt? Jesse was on track to finding out. "If you want me to go…"

"No," said Andrew. "I'm sorry I was being a brat about that. I want you to stay, actually, and I was just scared you'd come and _then_ you'd go when you realized how much mess and fuss a baby is, and that would… I'd be really sad if you did that."

Jesse's heart was pounding like it was going to burst through his chest. _Calm down_ , he told himself firmly. "Well, if you need me," Jesse said, trying to sound casual.

"I do," said Andrew. Harry threw a spoonful of oatmeal at him mostly by accident, and he burst into startled laughter. "I mean we do. Harry and I most definitely need you. Why are you being such a monster this morning? You look like you've had a bath in oatmeal. Did you eat any of it?" He picked up Harry, who laughed delightedly and got his oatmeal-covered hands all over Andrew's neck and hair.

"Okay," said Jesse. The bursting feeling wouldn't leave, and it was getting a little hard to breathe. "I'm gonna go change my shirt and you should figure out what to tell Justin."

"The truth," said Andrew determinedly, trying to wipe off Harry's hands. "I might as well get used to telling people what's happened."

"You're Spider-man. It's kind of a big deal. You've got your own Robin."

Andrew blinked at him, confused, and then he hid a laugh behind Harry. "That's Batman you're thinking of."

"Isn't that… Aren't they kind of the same sort of genre thing?" Jesse asked. "Robin's the sidekick, right?"

"Yes, but… Spider-man doesn't have… Oh dear. We'll rent some movies, you'll see." Andrew was trying valiantly not to laugh at Jesse too obviously.

Jesse decided he didn't mind too much. "He's adopted and he wears tights, I _know_ I'm right about that. I think we might have to go to the judges on this one."

"Harry?" said Andrew, looking at him seriously. Harry clapped his hands and shouted. "I think the judge has ruled in your favor."

"Spider-man and Robin," Jesse said triumphantly. "Wait. Robins eat spiders. That won't work. Spider-man and… uh… baby fly?"

Andrew burst out laughing. "That’s the worst super hero name I've ever heard. No. Not that. Besides, you'll need one, too, won't you? It's not just me and Harry; you're here, too."

Jesse could feel his face start to heat up. He was smiling like an idiot and he was a little worried his cheeks might burst into flames. "Oh, um, that's, if you think, okay. Well," he said, not very coherently. "I have to change my shirt." Jesse ducked his head and bit his lip until he no longer felt like his face might break from smiling.

\--

"Holy shit," Justin said. "That's a baby."

"Yeah," Andrew agreed.

"No, I mean, you have a _baby._ Can I hold him?"

Jesse looked at Justin's leather jacket, which had probably cost half a million dollars, and his shiny silver jeans, which were immaculate. He started to say, _he'll get you all grimy_ , and then realized it would be sort of hilarious if Justin had to walk out of the restaurant covered in baby food.

Andrew looked a little dubious. "Well, you _can_ ," he started, and Justin grabbed Harry. Harry looked equally dubious about the proceedings.

"Cool," said Justin. "So what the fuck – I mean, what the heck, yo? You have a baby. And uh, not to pry, but… you have a Jesse, too."

"I'm planning a big career for Harry, so he can only have nannies with Oscar nominations," said Andrew. Justin laughed. He wasn't entirely annoying, Jesse thought grudgingly. And then he wasn't sure why he was grudging Justin anything; they were friends. It was probably because Jesse had had Andrew's undivided attention for the better part of a week and now he had to share with Justin, who was frustratingly good at holding babies it turned out. Harry had settled down on his lap and was trying to undo the buttons on his jacket instead of wreaking havoc on the table.

"Seriously, though," said Justin. He fished his keys out of his pocket and handed them to Harry, who began shaking them up and down with great enthusiasm.

"I was godfather and next-of-kin for a friend of mine," said Andrew, "and she overdosed. There wasn't anyone else to look after him." His voice was surprisingly steady, but Jesse still wanted to give him a hug. He settled for an awkward pat on the back instead.

"Poor little guy," said Justin. "That's awesome, though. You're gonna be a super cool dad, and he's lucky you were around." Harry had found a blinking light on Justin's keychain and began chewing on it. "So what about uh… This." He waved at Jesse.

"We made a whole movie together and you already forgot my name?" Jesse asked, deadpan.

"I'm _trying_ to be discreet, asshole," said Justin. He winced. "I mean. Uh. Butthole. Damn, how do you remember not to swear around him?"

"Mostly I don't swear much to begin with," said Andrew. He glanced over at Jesse and ducked his head a little. "There isn't anything to explain. I'm in over my head with Harry and Jesse offered to help us out while I gear up for the Spider-man premieres and so on."

Justin mulled that over for a second. "Okay," he said, shrugging. "If that's what you're going with. I won't mention that awkward phone call this morning."

Andrew shrugged. "We were just both really tired and my apartment's only got the one bed."

Justin nodded, looking totally unconvinced. "Right," he said. "Happens all the time."

"Just because there are so many rumors about you waking up in bed with a costar doesn't mean we all get drunk and sleep with whoever's most convenient," Jesse pointed out a little nastily.

"Ouch," said Justin. "That's only happened once or twice. And I was just asking, because you two are kind of weird, but whatever. If it's not a thing it's not a thing." He adjusted Harry a little bit and took the keys out of his mouth. He was still doing fine with the baby, which Jesse wasn't thrilled about. That was petty and unkind so Jesse scolded himself and tried to do better. "Okay, what can I do to help?"

"I'm sorry?" Andrew asked, all baffled British politeness.

"I wanna help," Justin said. "You're trying not to make the news, right? I can probably do something really annoying and public to distract people. Or I can just buy him all the toys in the world. Maybe a car."

"Maybe not a car," said Jesse.

" _You're_ not teaching him to drive anyway," said Andrew quickly. "That's… Justin, that's really sweet of you. Thank you."

Justin shrugged. "I'm not a _total_ douchebag." Andrew started to stammer something guilty and Justin rolled over him. "I mean, I know you measure every human being against Saint Eisenberg over there and his home for orphaned one-legged kittens, but I try to be basically a decent person."

"I don't—" Andrew protested at the same time that Jesse said, "Whoa, what?"

Justin rolled his eyes. He pitched his voice up a little and mimicked Andrew in a terrible fake British accent. "'Jesse's the best person in the world, and Jesse's the smartest guy alive and Jesse's the best actor on earth and Jesse's the nicest blah blah blah.' You say shi– uh, stuff like that all the time and then you two end up in bed together, so it's no wonder I make assumptions, right?"

Jesse stared at Andrew, who was turning pink and playing with his napkin instead of looking at either of them. "He's looking unhappy, here, I'll go and change him," said Andrew, grabbing Harry and carrying him off to the bathroom.

"It's not like that," said Jesse once Andrew was out of earshot, wishing it was. "Andrew loves everyone. He says that about everybody all the time." He'd heard Andrew enthuse about Emma and Carey and Rob and nearly everyone he'd ever worked with.

Justin snorted. "Hey, I'm thinking champagne brunch. You two seem kind of edgy."

"We're not," said Jesse. Then he considered that Andrew was the most open and honest person Jesse had ever met, and he'd never said anything to Jesse to hint that he… That he might… Which meant, logically, that he _didn't_ or else he would have said something, and that…

That way lay madness. "Actually, champagne sounds great," said Jesse.

"Yeah," Justin nodded. "I thought maybe."

\---

Andrew fidgeted the first half of the drive home. Jesse wondered if maybe he was worried about Harry. Andrew said abruptly, "If you're staying with me we should go shopping. Drive over to the shopping centre."

"Really?" Jesse asked and cut across four lanes of traffic, then slammed on the brakes when someone's grandfather stopped suddenly in front of him. He was so ridiculously easy for whatever Andrew wanted.

"Must you do that?" Andrew asked, a little pale.

"No one can drive in L.A. That wasn't my fault. What do you want to shop for?"

Andrew shrugged and looked at his hands. "Oh, well, I don't know. General household things. An extra toothbrush? Do you need clothes?"

"I have clothes," said Jesse. "They're just at my place."

"Right, I know, I… You can go get those, obviously, or we could – Ooh, Bed Bath and Beyond. That's where we should go."

Jesse was so confused by him sometimes. "You need a new comforter?"

"I might. Stop arguing with me," Andrew ordered, poking him. "I have things to buy."

Harry didn't want to go into his stroller so Andrew carried him and Jesse pushed the cart. "Ooh," said Andrew, "a set of mugs for tea. I need those. And napkins! Look, they've got ducks on, that's adorable. Do you like those?" Harry reached for them, so they went into the cart.

"You can't buy everything," said Jesse, noting with some alarm that they had barely walked in the door.

"Why not?" Andrew asked, and Jesse didn't have an answer for that. "Towels!" said Andrew excitedly. "What colors do you like?"

"Uh," said Jesse. "I like, um… I don't know? Does it matter?"

"You must have a favorite color," said Andrew, scandalized. "Even Harry's got a favorite color."

"That can't possibly be true."

"It's green," said Andrew definitely, and Jesse had no idea how to argue with that, either.

"Uh, I like blue. Or colors that seem like blue. Near-blue. Blue-esque colors."

Andrew still looked a little horrified. "You must have a preference. There are six different shades of blue here." He gestured to the wall of towels and matching bathroom mats and washcloths.

"Yes, I've been completely miserable this whole time, using your towels. It's like Guantanamo Bay," said Jesse. Andrew put his hands on his hips impatiently. "I, uh…." He had the weirdest feeling that he didn't want to disappoint Andrew by picking the wrong blue. "Let Harry choose."

"It's _your_ towel," Andrew objected. "How do you normally choose?"

Jesse spread his hands helplessly. "I pick the fluffiest one. Or the one least covered in cat hair."

"Jesse!" said Andrew, half-laughing and half-despairing. "Just point to a towel."

Jesse grabbed something in the blue family. "This seems to mean a lot to you," he said. He couldn't imagine ever in his life caring what color his towel was.

"Oh," said Andrew, offering Harry a washcloth to chew on. "I just thought, since you're staying with us, you might like… Well, I mean… I'm not trying to be presumptuous, you like the couch, I'm fine with that. Since I've got Harry and all it's probably easier and I wouldn't blame you if you weren't, um… I mean, I don't want to rush you—"

For a blinding, terrifying second Jesse thought Andrew was about to kick him out of the apartment. "Sorry, I'm in the way. I'm _in the way_ , shit."

"No!" said Andrew quickly. Harry fidgeted and kicked and whined a little. "That's not what I meant, oh god, I'm so bad at this. I just thought. Since you're staying with us, you could… I mean. For you. You are going to stay, aren't you?" He bit his lip and looked hopeful.

Jesse couldn't believe Andrew thought he was such a dick that he'd run out before Andrew's mom got there, even if Andrew was obviously starting to feel antsy about having his space back. "Of course," said Jesse.

Andrew's smile was blinding. "Oh, good," he said. "Fantastic. Wonderful. Just… I'm really pleased. We're pleased, aren't we, Harry?"

Harry threw the washcloth on the floor and said, "Bye bye," fretfully, hiding his face against Andrew's shoulder.

"Ignore him, he's being grumpy," said Andrew. He retrieved the mildly-chewed washcloth from the floor and put it in the cart.

Jesse rolled his eyes. "You don't need to buy me anything, you know. I'm just trying to make your life easier—"

"You do," said Andrew, and then ducked his head and Jesse couldn't argue with him when he was the cutest person in the world holding the cutest baby in the world, so he just trailed after them through the store.

\--

The only reason that Andrew didn't buy everything in the entire store was that eventually Harry got fussier and started to cry. Two mothers let them cut ahead in line, cooing at Harry, who turned his face away and started to scream and kick.

"Take him outside, we left the snacks and bottles in the car," said Jesse.

"I've got to pay first—" Andrew started.

"I have a wallet," said Jesse. Andrew frowned, but Harry was hanging limply from his arms trying to throw himself on the ground and crying so hard he was starting to cough and bubble snot from his nose.

"Save the receipt," Andrew ordered, and dashed for the door.

The mothers behind him in line smiled sympathetically. "That's a difficult age," one of them said.

Jesse smiled uncomfortably.

The other mother nodded. "You'll be okay, though. You two are a team. That's what it takes."

"Me and… Oh, yeah, well. We're trying," said Jesse. What was it about him that made everyone in the world assume he was dating Andrew except Andrew?

"I loved you two in the Social Network," said the first mother, patting his elbow. "You should really keep some snacks for him when you go out if you're not going to carry a pacifier. Babies like to eat before a nap. They sleep better with some food in their tummies."

"Not my Bethany, she wouldn't sleep if she'd been eating," said the second mother, and then it was Jesse's turn to check out. He bought all of the ridiculous things Andrew had filled the cart up with – plastic silverware with hippos for handles for Harry, pillowcases covered in stars ("Because _you're_ a star!" Andrew had said excitedly), darker curtains for the living room so Jesse could sleep better, fridge magnets for some reason Jesse couldn't fathom -- and pretended he couldn't see the clerk giving him sidelong glances.

Andrew was standing outside in the parking lot trying to calm Harry down with lots of gentle bouncing and mumbled words but Harry was crying and red-faced. "He's so unhappy," said Andrew, "and I don't know what I did. What's he doing? Do you know?"

Harry was holding his hands up against his ears as if he couldn’t stand listening to Andrew for one more second, and screaming with tears. "He falls asleep when we drive him around. I'll take the long way back to your place," Jesse offered. He put all the bags into the back of the car while Andrew put Harry in his car seat.

"He doesn't want a bottle and he doesn't want a snack and he doesn't want me," said Andrew, sounding heartbroken.

"He's just tired," said Jesse, more hopefully than sure about it.

Harry quieted down once Jesse started driving but he didn't fall asleep. He was still half-awake and crying quietly to himself, and Andrew spent the entire ride twisted around in his seat and reassuringly patting Harry's foot since it was the only thing he could reach. Jesse wished he were half the baby-whisperer Andrew assumed he was, so he could fix whatever was wrong with Harry.

The baby fussed and cried while Andrew tried to put him down for a nap at home, and when Andrew closed the bedroom door they could both hear him crying through it. "He's fine," said Jesse uncertainly.

"What if he's _not_?" Andrew asked.

"No baby ever died from crying," Jesse said, wondering if that was true. Harry was still wailing on the other side of the door. "You want me to make some dinner?"

"No, I can… I'm going to tidy up a little and put things away and you should go back to your apartment and get your clothes. Or, honestly, you don't have to stay here with us. I don't want to make you… I mean, this isn't your problem, I don't want to make it yours. You can go and stay there tonight and I'll look after him while he's being a brat."

Andrew definitely wanted to get rid of him."He's not a brat," Jesse said. "He's just a tired little guy."

Andrew had his determined face on. "You have to keep liking him, and I don't think you will if you have to listen to him fuss. And anyway, I have to get used to taking care of him by myself eventually, don't I? Go home for a while. You deserve a break while he's being so loud."

"I can stay," Jesse offered.

"Go," Andrew insisted, pushing him toward the door.

"Okay," said Jesse unhappily. "I left dishes in my sink, I guess, and there's some stuff I should probably go get. Should I come back tonight?"

Harry started wailing again in the bedroom. "Stay at your own apartment and get some sleep; we should take turns staying sharp and you'll have him tomorrow. Harry and I will be fine," said Andrew firmly, and kicked him out.

They wouldn't be, Jesse thought. Well, really he _hoped._ He wanted Andrew to open the door again and say, _"I'm sorry, it was all a mistake, I need you desperately, I can't do anything without you. Please stay and help me with Harry and then just forget to leave, ever."_

The door didn't open and his phone didn't ring.

Jesse drove back to his own apartment and sat on the couch for a while. His copy of Moby Dick was still half-open on the coffee table, rebuking him. His apartment felt small and empty and quiet. He turned his phone on a couple of times to see if he'd accidentally silenced it and missed a call from Andrew and found he hadn't. He fell asleep on his own couch and it wasn't nearly as nice.

\--

The phone finally rang just after five in the morning. Jesse fumbled for it and knocked it off the coffee table in his rush to answer. "Andrew?" he said, instead of hello.

"I think he's ill. He's barely slept and he feels warm to me. I can't drive, can you – God, oh no, I'm sorry, did I wake you up? I can call a taxi."

Jesse could hear Harry crying in the background. "I'll be there in twenty minutes, is that too long? You can call an ambulance—"

"Oh my god, do you think I need an ambulance?"

Jesse had never heard Andrew so panicked. He was used to being the one who panicked in any given situation, while Andrew smiled and laughed and cajoled him into calming down. Jesse took a deep breath and ordered himself to focus. "Is he drinking? How hot is he? Do you have a baby thermometer?"

"I haven't got _anything_ ," Andrew said. He sounded like he might cry, too.

"Okay. Then I'll be twenty-five minutes because I'm going to swing by the twenty-four-hour Rite Aid and pick up some baby Triaminic or something. Twenty-five minutes. You want me to keep the phone on speaker while I'm driving?"

"I'm fine, we're fine, we'll be fine," said Andrew. Harry sounded awful. "Please hurry. I'm sorry to wake you up, but—"

Jesse hung up and grabbed his keys, running out the door.

\--

"I cleared out the entire baby aisle of the store," Jesse said, bursting in.

Andrew's apartment had dramatically devolved since Jesse had dropped him off. There were dirty towels and tissues everywhere, toys and clothes scattered across every surface, and Andrew looked a little like he'd been dragged behind a car for a couple of miles down a dirt road. Harry was red-faced and crying quietly, hiccuping unhappily to himself and clutching Andrew's sweatshirt with both hands.

"Pediasure," said Jesse, "in case he's dehydrated. A thermometer to see if he has a fever. The number of a couple of local pediatricians who make house calls in case of emergency. Fever medicine, cold medicine, cough medicine—"

"Thank you," said Andrew. He looked and sounded like he might cry. "I'm sorry it's so early, I didn't realize when I called. I thought I could be alone with him, but as soon as I was he got ill, and I—"

"If he's sick then he was sick before I left," said Jesse. He peeled Harry off Andrew's chest and let the baby cry against his shoulder instead. He did feel warm, and there was some spilled food and dried snot on his pajama shirt, but Jesse hugged him tightly anyway.

"I don't know what to do," said Andrew. He started to cross his arms and then instead waved his hands around and then tried to put them in his pockets and every line of his body language was screaming that he was about to start crying or sitting on the floor rocking back and forth.

"My jacket pocket has phone numbers," said Jesse. "Call one of the pediatricians and see who can see you first thing this morning. He's still rubbing his ear. My mom says that means he might have an ear infection."

Andrew nodded frantically. "Do you think he's sick enough to wait for a doctor? I can't tell if I'm panicking over nothing or if he's really sick, I wish he were old enough to tell me. He just cries and cries and I don't know how to make him feel better. I'm the worst caretaker in the world, he ought to be with someone who knows what they're doing."

"You're fine," said Jesse, trying to bounce Harry a little bit and calm him down. Harry was still crying fitfully so he wasn't going to like having his temperature taken. "He's fine, and you're doing fine."

"I'm not, I can't, I don't know – Oh god, did you call your mother in the middle of the night for us?"

"New York is three hours ahead, it's fine. Andrew, I never thought in a million years _I'd_ be telling _you_ this, but calm down. Breathe. Everything is fine." He wasn't sure whether he was lying or not, but he was sure that Andrew was on the verge of an actual breakdown.

Andrew nodded shakily and actually stopped to take a deep breath. "I'm trying," he said. "I'm just so _scared_ I'll have waited too long and he'll be sick, and I won't have done whatever I needed to do."

"I'll take his temperature, you call the doctor," said Jesse. "It'll be okay, Andrew, I swear. Really."

"Okay," said Andrew, nodding again. "Right. Okay." He pulled out his cellphone and started dialing.

Jesse had forgotten up until he opened the package on the baby thermometer that baby's temperatures were measured in their butts, and that seemed like a horrible violation of his relationship with Harry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, while Harry wailed and screamed and cried. "Tell the doctor he's got a fever of… One hundred and one," said Jesse.

" _One hundred and_ – Oh, it's Fahrenheit, right, I knew that," said Andrew. "Is that bad?"

"It's not good," Jesse hedged. He offered Harry a bottle and a toy as an apology but Harry kept crying, pressing his hand against his ear.

"The doctor can see us in an hour," said Andrew. "How did your mother know the number of a doctor in L.A.?"

Jesse bit his lip. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell Andrew that his mother had apparently started looking for pediatricians directly after Jesse had told her that Andrew had a baby. She hadn't come out and said, _"Because I need to know that my grandchild is looked after_ ," but she hadn't sounded surprised, either. "She's just all kinds of awesome," he said. "She knows people."

"Tell her I love her," Andrew replied.

"I will," he said. Harry was calming down just a little. "I'll drive you both over and the doctor will fix everything. Don't worry."

"Thank you," Andrew said. "Jesse, I… Thank you."

"Hurry up," said Jesse, so he didn't say something stupid, and rubbed Harry's back until he settled down.

\--

Andrew wasn't the most panicked parent in the pediatrician's waiting room. There was also a mother shouting at the receptionist about how long it was taking to see her son, and another mother trying to wrangle four children who were all trying to kill each other. Harry lay in his stroller and cried fitfully while Andrew rolled him gently back and forth. Jesse sat next to him on the tiny child-sized waiting bench and tried to look calm and seem like he wasn't worried at all, while running through increasingly apocalyptic scenarios in his head. What if Harry really was sick? What if something happened to him?

Maybe he didn't look as calm as he hoped, because Andrew inched his hand across the bench until their fingers were touching. "He'll be alright," said Andrew firmly. He wasn't hiding the shake in his voice very well.

"Yeah," said Jesse, and just because he could, he squeezed Andrew's hand with his own. Andrew smiled gratefully.

"Mr. Garfield?" said the nurse. She looked up at them and Jesse could tell the second she recognized Andrew, and then recognized him, and then tried to put her professional face back on. "The doctor is ready for you."

"I'll read Highlights. I have years of back issues to catch up on," said Jesse. Andrew laughed, more a huff of relief than anything else, and carried Harry out of the waiting room.

\--

It was a long hour before Andrew came back out. Harry was sleeping against his shoulder, and Andrew was trying to juggle the baby, his cellphone, a note from the doctor, and his wallet.

"Ear infection," said Andrew shortly and thrust the phone at Jesse. "Talk to my mother, please."

"Uh," said Jesse cleverly. "Hello? Mrs. Garfield?"

"Why on earth are you there?" said a sharp voice on the other end. Jesse winced.

"I'm helping out," he said.

"Why didn't he have a doctor before this? What is he _doing_? A baby isn't a puppy, it isn't something you just take home with you because it's cute and you're bored or lonely."

"No, ma'am," said Jesse. "He has one now, though, and he's getting medicine and everything is going to be fine." He mouthed at Andrew, _Is everything going to be fine?_ Andrew nodded back tiredly. He was in the middle of a discussion of American insurance that didn't look like it was going to end any time soon.

"This is why you don't adopt babies as spur-of-the-moment decisions. This is why you don't do it on a different continent from half your family. He doesn't even have a driving license!"

"Well, he's got me," said Jesse.

Mrs. Garfield was so loud he had to hold the phone away from his ear. "What kind of a plan is that? He's got a friend who might not be busy so he can take them to the doctor in case of emergency? Babies require a little more long-term planning than that!"

"He's trying," said Jesse.

"I should obviously just cancel work and get on a plane. The first thing a baby needs is a reliable pediatrician! Has Andrew found a nanny yet?"

"Well, uh," said Jesse, wishing Andrew weren't quite so caught up in arguing with the receptionist. "He's gearing up for the red carpet tomorrow in L.A. But I'm sure he's planning things."

"Handing the phone to you was an act of cowardice," she said, and hung up.

Jesse stared at Andrew's phone for a second like it was a defused bomb. "Well," he said. "Okay, then." He walked over to the desk and offered Andrew his phone back. "That was really enlightening, thank you."

Andrew made a face. "She's a bit stressed over suddenly being a grandmother and then immediately losing the grandchild to another continent," he said. "Normally she's lovely."

"I'm sure," Jesse agreed. "I'll trade you the phone for the baby."

"Coward," said Andrew, shifting Harry carefully to Jesse.

"Oh, yeah, totally," Jesse agreed. He walked Harry over to the stroller, rubbing his back and mumbling nonsense words under his breath, because he had a feeling Andrew was going to be at the desk for a while. It really was irresponsible that they hadn't thought about insurance or doctors or anything. Jesse was going to have to call his mom and find out what else he'd forgotten to think about.

He was struck, suddenly, as he put Harry down to nap, that he was making contingency plans and emergency information for someone else's baby. He was just supposed to be there to help Andrew out. Andrew didn’t even want him there all the time, he wanted to be alone with Harry, and when the crisis passed it would probably be better for everyone if Jesse got out of the way. Jesse sighed and let Harry wrap his entire hand around Jesse's finger while he slept.

\--

"Garfield's late," said Marc.

Emma winced and fished her phone out of her pocket. "I'm sure he'll be here in a second," she said breezily, "don't worry. He's Spider-man, he'll show up in the nick of time." She pocket texted _Where r u? Pics, tuxedo fittings, red carpet 2morrow dumass_. She had been on the brink of calling Jesse all morning to make sure Andrew didn't forget, and then decided that that was too intrusive, but obviously she should have.

The text she got back looked a lot like a scene from The King's Speech. And then _20 minutes IM REALLY SORRY_.

The photographer was starting to get antsy, so Emma directed a blinding smile at him. "I really want to hear what your vision is for this shoot," she said. He leered a little, which was gross, but Emma was willing to take one for the team in this case.

Half an hour later Andrew stumbled in looking like absolute hell. Emma jumped up and stopped him at the door, pretending to fix his collar so she could hiss, "I thought Jesse was taking care of this."

"Harry got ill, I was up all night with him, we've just got back from the doctor."

She wrinkled her nose. "You smell like baby vomit. Gross."

"D'you think anyone'll believe I was just on a bender?" Andrew asked hopefully.

Emma doubted it, but then she'd been trying to decide what to do about the SPIDERMAN'S BABY headline in Enquirer. It wasn't high-profile enough to seem like legitimate news yet, but it would soon. "Go wash your face and let Janine do something with this lion's mane you call hair. We'll take some pictures and get you ready for tomorrow and then we seriously need to talk about how you're going to explain Harry to the world."

"Yeah," said Andrew. "Okay. Right."

"And I'll get you some coffee." He made a face at her, which she ignored. This called for more oomph than tea could possibly have.

The photoshoot was okay, and the fitting was fine, except for how Andrew started swaying on his feet halfway through. Emma flicked him on the ear to wake him up. "Up all night? Doing anything fun, at least?" Marc asked.

"Oh, um. No, the baby was sick," said Andrew. Marc had heard a much shorter version of the story from Emma but had seemed sort of dubious about the whole thing. He looked at her, and she nodded in a, _No, seriously, this is really happening_ way.

"You gonna be okay for tomorrow?"

"All he has to do is show up, wear a tux, and smile a lot," Emma pointed out. "He could literally do that asleep. You want me to wear something micro-mini that doesn't fit right and take the attention off you?"

"I always want that," Andrew laughed. "You'll look fantastic."

Emma tried to think of a way to start the conversation they needed to have that wouldn't be drama, but there wasn't one. Emma believed in ripping bandaids straight off. "Listen, this baby thing is set to blow up any second now. Are there more shots of you and Harry and Jesse? Because I've seen them start showing up in online gossip blogs."

Andrew went a little bit pale and sat down. His tuxedo was going to be all wrinkled before the premiere. "Oh," he said faintly. "Well."

"Your publicist needs to make some kind of statement," Emma said flatly. "Otherwise people are going to dig up the official records like it's a dirty secret." Andrew nodded. She tried to soften the blow a little. "You won't do an interview with People, you aren't going to sell pictures of him, so it's going to blow over, but there will be a few weeks where it's gonna be bad. Don't worry. Me and Jesse have your back."

"And Justin."

Emma blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Andrew laughed unhappily. "He offered to do something really outrageous to distract people. It was nice, actually."

A vague, fleeting idea occurred to Emma. "That's really sweet, ten points for Justin. Anyway between the three of us you'll be fine, but just… I don't know. Prepare yourself."

"I'm not that interesting, honestly," said Andrew.

Emma just made a face, looking pointedly at the giant Spider-man poster they'd been taking pictures in front of. Andrew sighed and deflated a little bit. Emma patted his knee sympathetically.

\--

Andrew invited her for dinner, and Emma was too curious not to accept. She really, really wanted to see what kind of bizarre domestic bliss he and Jesse had settled in to. She wasn't disappointed. They walked in and Jesse was at the stove in an _actual apron_ with _polka dots on it_ making dinner. His glasses were a little bit steamed up from whatever he was boiling on the stove.

"Harry's napping," said Jesse. "I think he's feeling better. Oh. Hey, Emma."

Emma bit her lip to keep from giggling and waved. Andrew took his coat off and said, "That smells delicious."

"We should have called, I didn't realize Jesse was cooking," Emma said.

Jesse looked adorably confused. "Andrew texted me, I knew you were coming. I hope you like lasagna and steamed vegetables."

"I'm going to shower," said Andrew. As he walked past Jesse one of his hands moved out, fingers trailing across Jesse's waist, but so lightly that Jesse didn't seem to notice. It might have been a _Thanks for being here_ reassuring touch, or a _See? I came home again_ touch, but Emma had a suspicion that Andrew just took any excuse he could find to touch Jesse.

"Don't wake Harry up," was all Jesse said. Emma frowned a little bit as she sat down at Andrew's counter. Was it possible that Jesse was socially awkward enough not to notice the way Andrew looked at him? Or casually touched him?

"I um, I wasn't sure what you'd want to eat so I also made you chicken," Jesse said.

"That's really sweet," said Emma.

"And then I thought maybe you were a vegetarian so I also made you some vegetable pilaf."

"Awww, Jesse."

"But then I thought that maybe you don't eat carbs because lots of people in L.A don't eat carbs. So that's what the vegetables are for. And if that won't work I'm sure I can get you some filtered water and diet air."

It took Emma a second. "You're fucking with me. You asshole."

Jesse's smile was brilliant. "I really did make vegetables."

"You aren't allowed to teach the baby to lie just for fun," Emma said sternly. Jesse shrugged, all what-can-you-do? "Hey, I thought we had a deal that you'd keep Andrew from killing himself."

"Harry got sick. It was unplanned."

"Still. I expect better. What happened to our teamwork?"

Jesse shrugged again and looked at the floor instead of at her. "He… Um, he wanted me to leave. He needed space and to be alone with Harry or something, I guess. I can't force myself on him."

Emma frowned, trying to work that out and came up blank. She was never going to understand what the hell these two were thinking around each other. "Are you staying tonight?"

"If he wants me to," said Jesse. He started pulling food out of the oven and setting the table and Emma kicked her shoe angrily but quietly against the leg of the kitchen table.

Andrew came back out, damp and looking half-asleep. He was carrying Harry, who was a little bit pink and clutching Andrew's shirt with both hands. "He woke up when I was in there," Andrew said apologetically.

"He'll never settle down if you pick him up," said Jesse.

"He's mostly asleep anyway," said Andrew.

"So are you," said Emma.

"No, no, I'm totally awake," Andrew lied, sitting down with Harry.

Jesse handed Andrew a plate and looked at him dubiously. "If you say so."

Emma had to carry most of the conversational load during the meal; Jesse spent most of it looking at Andrew with little frown lines creasing his forehead. Andrew managed some food but spent most of the meal yawning and pretending he wasn't, or offering Harry a bottle which Harry didn't seem to want. Emma chattered about the movie and some mildly scandalous stories about people in Hollywood she was pretty sure Jesse had never heard of.

When Andrew started to nod a little bit, jerking himself back awake with visible effort, Emma decided that was enough. "You're going to drop him," she scolded. "Bed. Come on." She pried Harry off Andrew's chest and handed him to Jesse and then dragged Andrew up and toward the bedroom. Jealousy flashed across Jesse's face but he shut it down almost immediately. Emma put that aside to ponder later.

"I'm fine," Andrew insisted, but he didn't try and stop her from bullying him into bed. With great malice aforethought she kissed Andrew's cheek and patted his thigh while Jesse put Harry down in the crib. Jesse was definitely watching her from the corner of his eye and frowning. Maybe a little jealousy would get him to say something and stop being such a fucking idiot.

By the time she closed the bedroom door again she was fairly sure Andrew and Harry were both already asleep. "You know what I'm going to say," she said quietly.

"So you really don't have to," Jesse agreed, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

She sighed. "Do I need to stage an intervention?"

Jesse shook his head. "I'm… If I screwed this up, or if I made his life with Harry harder I could never… I'd be so mad at myself, I…"

Emma sighed. Maybe if she planted a kiss on Andrew at the premier it would help things along. Or maybe, given how uncertain Jesse looked, it would make things worse. "I think it will be fine, hon. Thanks for dinner."

Jesse shrugged and smiled. Emma drove home convinced it couldn't be too much longer before they worked out that they were on the same page.

\--

The red carpet was great. Andrew looked fantastic and Emma wore a scandalously short and tight dress with her favorite fuck-me shoes. They posed for all the flashing lights in front of ludicrously large posters and smiled no matter how bright the lights got.

"You look better," Emma said, leaning over to be heard.

"I finally slept," Andrew said sheepishly. "And then this morning my mum arrived unexpectedly, so that's an extra set of hands to take care of things."

"Andrew!" someone shouted. "Andrew, what's up with the baby? Any comment? We have pictures of you and Jesse Eisenberg shopping at Bed Bath and Beyond together with an infant!"

Andrew smiled politely and pretended he hadn't heard. Emma hooked her arm through his and walked him inside, waving to the cameras. "You have to say something," she said, clenching her teeth through a smile.

"My publicist is putting out something on Tuesday. Small, discreet, tasteful, and I'm supposed to ignore it all until then," said Andrew, waving to a fan.

"What if it doesn't ignore you?" Emma asked.

Andrew shrugged. "I'm trying to be zen about the whole thing. Do you think anyone'll notice if I sneak out of our movie to check and see if Jesse's texted me? Harry's still not feeling one-hundred percent."

"Yes," said Emma, "but you should do it anyway." Andrew gave her waist an affectionate squeeze and she beamed at him.

\--

There was an after party to celebrate the generally good reviews ("Spider-man swings back into action!" and "Spider-man saves the day!") and then an after-after party. Andrew spent most of them frowning at his phone. He was perfectly polite to critics and friends and other people from the movie who wanted to chat, but he was also clearly distracted.

"How's Harry?" Emma asked. She'd changed into slightly less absurd footwear and had about six glasses of champagne. The whole evening felt bubbly and ridiculous and amazing.

"Mum says he's recovering. Jesse's not answering his phone, though." He typed out a text and pocketed it again. "Maybe he's gone to sleep; it's nearly one AM."

"It's almost two," Emma corrected. "You want to go home and check?"

Andrew shrugged one shoulder. "It's our party, darling," he said. "It would be rude to skip out. I love the movie and I love these people, I just…"

"You can't stop thinking about Jesse and Harry."

Andrew sighed. "I'm sorry. You look amazing." He kissed her cheek.

"I know," said Emma. "Let's get a driver and get out of here. You have important family business."

It took them another hour to get out of the party, between all the well-wishers and all the drunk people who wanted to talk to them. By the time they finally got downstairs to the car service a lot of the champagne had worn off, so Emma grabbed another flute from a caterer as they exited.

"Don't you feel high on life?" Emma asked. She reclined sideways on the leather seat. "Isn't this a fabulous event?"

"Sure," said Andrew, checking his phone.

Emma poked his thigh with the sharp end of her heel. "This is a good night to stop worrying and embrace life, Garfield."

"I'm embracing it. The party was great."

She dug the shoe in a little bit, and he winced and scooted away. "I'm implying that this would be a great night to go home, sweep in, and tell Jesse you love him."

Emma waited for him to blush and stutter and deny. He looked at his hands instead, turning his phone over and over. "I'd considered it," he said quietly.

She sat up. "Wait, really?"

Andrew shrugged and bit his lip. "I mean. I could always say I was drunk if it went wrong."

"Oh my god!" Emma squealed. "I would have dragged you out of the party _hours_ ago if I'd known that!" She banged obnoxiously on the separation between them and the driver. "Faster! We have a romantic mission!"

"He's probably asleep," said Andrew, laughing a little. "I'm not going to wake him up for that."

"Yes, you will! After all this stupid staring at each other, someone's finally _saying_ something! Oh god, Andrew, I'm so excited."

He laughed again. "Glad you are. My hands are all sweaty." Emma offered him the rest of her champagne, which he declined.

They pulled up at Andrew's apartment. Emma really should have let him talk to Jesse on his own but she wasn't about to give him a chance to chicken out. She asked the driver to wait and followed him up to the door, bouncing with anticipation. "It's going to be great, I promise," she said.

He rolled his eyes and unlocked the door.

An older woman stood up. "Well, it's late enough," she said, and she sounded just like Andrew.

"Sorry, we had parties we needed to attend," Andrew said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

His mother pursed her mouth a little. "Some people might have taken their mother to a nice party instead of having her fly halfway round the world to babysit. Harry's been sick, and he isn't a toy you can put away while you're busy."

"I know that, I know," said Andrew placatingly.

Mrs. Garfield sighed. "I just worry, my love," she said, patting his hand. "Anyway you're home now, I'm off to bed." She headed into the bedroom.

Andrew looked a little confused. "Is Jesse – Oh. I guess I hadn't thought. There isn't really room here for all of us, is there?" He wrinkled his nose and looked at Emma.

"Jesse didn't think so, no. He's gone back to his apartment."

Andrew deflated a little. "I'll talk to him in the morning, I suppose."

"Call him now, before you lose your nerve," Emma ordered. "Oooh, or we can drive over to his place and surprise him!" She grabbed Andrew's hand and pulled him back toward the door.

His mother looked a little confused. "You can't drive to his apartment."

"It's only about half an hour away," said Emma. "Sorry to keep Andrew out so late, but--"

"No, he's gone back to New York."

Andrew's jaw dropped. Emma had never gasped in her life when it wasn't for a movie but she gasped then, a tiny shocked inhale as if someone had hit her. "He _went back to New York_?" she echoed. "He… Andrew?"

Andrew couldn't get out a clear sentence. "He – But he – He said that he — I don't -- Mum, you didn't ask him to leave, did you?"

She snorted. "Half an hour after you left this afternoon he told me he had a plane ticket and walked out. I said, 'Don't you want to say goodbye to Andrew?' and he said 'No, not really, actually,' and Harry began to cry and Jesse ran like he was on fire. I think there's something wrong with him."

Andrew was somewhere between shock and losing it completely. "Come for a walk with me," Emma ordered, pulling him toward the door.

"I'll be just a few minutes," Andrew said to his mother. "Sorry."

She smiled sympathetically. "I'm off to bed, then."

Andrew followed Emma outside. It seemed colder now, and his apartment complex's yard seemed so empty. "But I asked him to _stay_ ," Andrew repeated. He looked pleadingly at Emma. "He promised me – I mean, us -- that he would."

Emma had a terrible feeling about this in the pit of her stomach. "Andrew, honey. You asked him to stay and help you with the baby because you're stressed, or… You said, 'Jesse, I love you. Please stay forever and be my boyfriend and help me with this baby'?"

"Oh, um, well," said Andrew quietly. "I… I thought it was implied."

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes or smack her palm against her forehead. "It's _Jesse_. Picking up subtle social clues isn't his forté. Otherwise he'd have figured it out _eons_ ago."

"I wasn't subtle!" Andrew protested, picking up volume. "I have been constantly and repeatedly hitting on him until even Harry must have noticed!"

"But you never out-and-out said anything?"

"I was going to! And, well, he…" Andrew shuffled his shiny expensive shoes on the gravel a little. "Whenever I got near to actually doing it he'd get this terrified look on his face, and I couldn't tell if he was scared I'd make a move or just scared he didn't know how to let me down easily. I'm pretty certain I said everything _but_ those exact words."

Emma punched him on the arm.

"Ow!"

"You _idiot_ ," she said, and punched him again for good measure.

"Stop hitting me!" Andrew took a defensive step backwards. "He didn't _want_ me to, okay, he made it crystal clear. We shared a bed, he said he slept better on the couch! And _I asked him to stay_ , in case you forgot."

He was owed about ninety-five more punches by Emma's reckoning. "Skywriting wouldn't be obvious enough, you jackass. An entire symphony orchestra playing, 'Jesse I Think I Love You' wouldn't be clear. You know him _so well_! How could you fuck this up?"

"I…" Andrew rubbed his shoulder and gave her a hurt look. "I just couldn't stand it if I screwed things up. I wouldn't know what to do without him—"

"That's almost the exact same speech he gave me about _you_ ," Emma shouted. "Honest to god, you are the two dumbest people I have ever met!"

"I'm sorry," said Andrew. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from her for a minute. She let him pretend it wasn't so he could take deep breaths and try not to burst into tears. "I thought it wasn't fair to be more insistent when I've got this baby to deal with, and he never signed up to date a single parent. I thought he knew what I was actually asking."

"I'll punch him when I see him again, too, don't worry."

"Don't," said Andrew. "He'd be so upset."

That was the point, Emma thought angrily to herself. "Well my night is fucking ruined. I'm going to go drink the rest of the bottle of champagne and sulk. Want to join me?"

"We have press early tomorrow," said Andrew. He glanced at his watch. "In about four hours, actually."

"I'll be fresh as a fucking daisy, you watch. The baby news drops soon?"

"Yeah." Andrew looked away again. Emma wondered what he'd hoped for, if he'd been expecting Jesse to be around to bolster his confidence when he had to face the press and photographers with Harry. Maybe having Jesse around would have made it worse, though. Two stars meant twice as big a story.

"Will you be okay?"

Andrew nodded and put his shoulders back. "I'll be fine. I'm mad at him, actually. How could he just go without waiting to say goodbye? He can be such an idiot."

"That's the spirit," said Emma. "How about instead of me tracking him down for punching, you do it."

"Maybe I will." Andrew's scowl wouldn't have fooled a child.

"And then," said Emma, "after you punch him, that's when you mention being in love with him and running away together." Andrew groaned at her. "Seriously, you _have to say that part._ In exactly those words. 'Jesse, I love you.' Pretend it's a script."

"I'm _mad_ at him," Andrew repeated unconvincingly.

"Good luck with that," said Emma.

\--

Emma's phone woke her up. She'd only managed a couple of hours of sleep and she didn't appreciate losing those extra six minutes of rest. There was a text from Andrew that just said, _Shit shit shit shit shit_.

It wasn't hard to figure out why; as soon as Emma turned on the television she saw the story about Andrew and Harry had broken. Someone had seen the pictures of them together and done some digging, found the adoption papers, and now they were on the ticker on E! scrolling across the bottom of the screen. ANDREW GARFIELD ADOPTS A BABY!! was all over the internet, too, and Emma's name turned up in some of the articles, speculating whether she'd known about it or helped with it or if Harry was secretly hers somehow.

The stories were mostly sympathetic, at least. Andrew probably didn't want his friend's drug addiction and overdose all over the television but the way Ryan Seacrest was spinning it Andrew was a saint. Obviously Andrew's publicist had released their official statement early when he'd seen the news because Ryan was quoting Andrew asking for privacy with his new family. But there were at least two sets of paparazzi photos; the ones from the night they'd been out at dinner and another couple that looked like camera phone shots of Andrew and Jesse shopping together. Andrew was holding Harry and looking tired but happy.

"I wonder when we'll get official pictures of the happy family," said Ryan. "We wish you the best of luck, Andrew! Speaking of, let's talk about how Spider-man is swinging in to theaters across the country this weekend!"

This called for drastic action. Emma sent her publicist a slightly cryptic text, then sent Andrew a much more reassuring one.

 _Never leaving the house again, there are photographers camped out on my step_ , he sent back. _You'll have to go on without me._

They had interviews that afternoon, Leno in a couple of days, then flying out to New York to do Letterman, and then flying back for Conan, all of which she refused to do on her own.

 _Give me a couple of hours_ , Emma texted him, and dashed for the shower. Her plan required clean hair and a lot of lipstick.

\--

"I don’t get it," said Justin.

"What's not to get?" Emma asked.

"I mean, where would we have met?"

"We have mutual friends," Emma pointed out. She resisted the urge to tug down her skirt. She had taken great pains to hit the line exactly between casual just-out-on-a-date and super-super sexy. Her hair was down and carefully tousled "We've been at some of the same parties. The point is that we might have met anywhere, now shut up and take me to lunch."

Justin grumbled under his breath. His car was so expensive Emma was almost afraid to breathe on the dashboard, and she'd been in plenty of flashy cars before. "What if I had a girlfriend?"

"You had three last I heard. This isn't going to _hurt_ your reputation."

Justin was doing about twice the speed limit and then slamming on the brakes at every stop light. He pulled his phone out. "I've gotta call Trace before we get there."

"Who's Trace? Another girlfriend?"

Justin rolled his eyes at her and cut someone else off. Emma hated that she'd let him drive. "He's gonna call the photographers and give them a head's up. Not that I need it, 'cause they pretty much follow me around anyway. But you said this needs to happen today, right now."

This was probably a terrible idea, Emma thought, but it was also definitely going to get headlines. Justin was wearing a shiny suit jacket and a loosened tie and he didn't look _awful_. She couldn't back out on that account. Also, he'd shown up within half an hour of her phone call, which was better than her last boyfriend had managed, and they'd _actually been dating._

Justin slammed on the brakes at the valet parking. "So have we fucked yet?"

"I'm _sorry_?" Emma said.

"I gotta know whether I should look like I'm still trying to get it or I already got it, babe." He flashed her his million-dollar grin, which was admittedly not that bad.

"Still trying," said Emma through gritted teeth. There was something horribly irksome about how charming Justin was. She wanted desperately to dislike him and she was having trouble doing it while he smiled at her. "We've been seeing each other on the sly and this is the first time we've gone out in public."

"But I haven't gotten into your pants yet, huh?" He tossed his keys to the valet and offered Emma his arm. It was smug and horrible and charming all at once.

"You're not going to," Emma said. She glanced over to see if anyone eating on the patio had noticed them. There were definitely a couple of tables looking, and maybe a few camera phones out. "But you're welcome to try during lunch. Now shut up and kiss me." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard. After a startled second Justin kissed back, opening his mouth up easily to press his tongue against hers. His jaw was a little bit rough with the beginning of stubble and his hand was big and warm against the small of her back.

He was not a terrible kisser. Emma sucked his lower lip into her mouth and bit it. He pushed his hips forward a little bit against hers and pulled her closer.

"You want to put on a show, baby, I'm your man," he grinned and started sucking on her earlobe.

"I didn't call you because I _like_ you," Emma said, and turned a little to make sure the cameras got the best angle.  
\--

"I saw the movie, and it's just great," said Jay Leno. "Really entertaining. First I was like, should we really reboot this franchise so soon? And then I watched your movie, and I was like, oh!"

Andrew laughed politely. On the couch next to him Emma crossed and recrossed her legs, trying to look deeply interested.

"You two have some great chemistry in this movie, too."

The studio was freezing and the lights were so hot. Emma wondered if she was getting sweat marks under her arms. "Thanks," she said. "Andrew is so easy to fall in love with." She smiled at him and he ducked his head and the studio audience laughed and awwwed.

"And I hear beyond just the movie, congratulations are in order for you," said Jay to Andrew.

Andrew flinched, but so slightly that probably only Emma noticed. He'd agreed to talk about it a little, at least, to try and defuse some of the curiosity. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks."

"Andrew just adopted a really, seriously cute baby," Jay told his audience. The crowd seemed to be made up entirely of mothers who wanted to adopt Andrew and Harry themselves. Jay went on, "Aren't you dying, though? New baby, new movie… Do you ever sleep?"

Andrew laughed and shook his head. "Not really, no. Emma was a godsend, actually; she bought half of Kids R Us for Harry, and now my mum's flown out to help look after him. For a little while it was just me, though and that was… Well. A disaster."

"Oh!" said Jay, "That's why there were those pictures of you and the baby and Jesse Eisenberg, right? Was he lending a hand, too?"

Andrew's smile went frozen and a little stiff. "Yeah, he… I couldn't have… Before my mum got here it was mostly just him, and he's –" The audience started awwing again, and Jay laughed. "He's really good with babies, it turns out," Andrew said.

"Oscar nominated _and_ an excellent babysitter! Now there's a catch, ladies. How come you didn't step up to help?" Jay asked, turning to Emma.

"Babies aren't really my thing," said Emma. Everyone laughed. "I helped out, but then—"

Jay started laughing. "Yeah, I hear you have something else going on, too, eh?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows a little.

"Oh, you saw that?" Emma bit her lip. She patted Andrew's hand on the arm rest because he looked like he'd stopped breathing for a couple of seconds while he was thinking about Jesse.

"The whole world saw those pictures. So is this uh, a thing? Are you guys going to be a new Hollywood power couple?"

Emma laughed a little harder than that deserved and shook her head. "That's not really… It was just two friends having lunch together."

Jay tilted his head. "I've had lunch with lots of friends without… Can we put one of the pictures up? Without _that_ happening." He had a photo of Justin leaning across the table with one hand cradling Emma's jaw and his tongue half in her mouth. She laughed embarrassedly. At least she didn't have to pretend for that part. She hadn't intended for it to go beyond a little friendly kissing at lunch. Groping in the car, then dinner the next night, and then spending the night at Justin's house had been an honest surprise to her, and she wasn't sure why it had happened. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment all her common sense had been overruled by her Bad Idea Hormones.

The audience whistled and cheered. "Oh my god," said Emma, hand over her mouth. "That looks… It wasn't really like that!"

"I don't know," said Jay. "Looks pretty serious."

"You'd have to ask Justin about that," Emma said, and Jay laughed while the audience shrieked.

\--

"I do appreciate it," said Andrew in the green room back stage. "I'm just asking whether it's a good idea or not. I mean, that's four times you've been photographed together now."

Emma changed her shoes. "I'm the Spider-man scandal, you're not. Thank me and shut up."

"No, but I have questions," Andrew insisted. "Did you need to kiss him quite so enthusiastically? Have you two negotiated how much touching will go on and what kind? Aren't you a bit worried about where he's been?"

"You doofus," Emma said, rolling her eyes. "It's just something I’m doing as a favor for a friend. It doesn't mean anything, it's not going to have any repercussions."

"You look awfully friendly though—"

"Eww! Andrew, stop being gross. Justin and I are professionals."

Andrew was openly laughing at her now. "So the pictures of you leaving his house yesterday morning, the ones where you're still wearing the clothes from that interview we did the night before, that was just really careful planning?"

Emma refused to look at him. Her cheeks were burning a little bit. Some of the photo opportunities had been planned and some of them had involved cameramen unexpectedly in the bushes outside Justin's house. "I guess you'll just have to die wondering about that."

"Oh my god, this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. Is it likely to happen again?" Andrew asked, delighted.

"Absolutely not," said Emma. "Not unless you have some other sort of baby crisis. Or any other kind of crisis, I guess. Speaking of which, I half thought you were going to propose to Jesse on Leno's couch."

Andrew shrugged. "That would be a bit presumptuous."

Emma gave him a long look through narrowed eyes. "You considered it."

"He doesn't even _own_ a TV. I'd be talking to myself. Now explain your walk of shame from Timberlake's house. Entertainment Tonight certainly had some ideas about what was going on."

Emma lied, "It was all for the cameras, Andrew, obviously. I went over late, we ignored each other for a few hours, and then I left after he called TMZ. No big deal."

"So you didn't do anything?"

"No," Emma said firmly. "Or… Well, at least, I'm not going to do anything _again_ so it doesn't matter." Andrew howled with laughter and Emma tried not to blush. "Get your life together, Garfield. You're ruining mine."

He tried to look serious. "I'm sorry about that."

"When we fly out to New York next week for Letterman you can make it up to me by talking to Jesse. Repeat after me, 'Jesse, I want you to be my boyfriend—'"

"Stop it, shut up, I've got a baby, he might not want to – Honestly, Emma." Andrew crossed his arms, working hard to look angry. "Besides, he's only texted me this week, he hasn't called once. That's rude."

"Are you still pretending to be mad?"

"I'm not _pretending_." He sounded petulant and ridiculous instead of righteous or angry. "I’m really very cross with him."

"Aww," said Emma, grabbing her coat. "That's cute."

"It is not! If it all goes horribly wrong in New York you'll have to take me out for drinks."

"I promise," said Emma.

"Even if it means ditching a date with Justin."

She punched him on the arm a lot more lightly this time, and he laughed and followed her out the door.

\---

Jesse should have been looking at scripts or at least sending his agent a message about why he didn't like them, but instead he was halfway through Middlemarch and not planning to do anything else all day. The cats were chasing a bottle cap up and down the hall and NPR was playing softly enough from his clock radio that he couldn't tell if he was listening to Fresh Air or Radiolab. Jesse's apartment in New York was a little bit dark and a lot cozy, and he had the lights off so he could read sitting underneath the window.

There was a knock on his door and his phone beeped simultaneously, which was unprecedentedly weird. Jesse frowned and picked up his phone, which said "Andrew." "What's up?" Jesse asked, trying to sound entirely calm although he hadn't actually talked to Andrew since he'd flown home a couple of weeks before.

"This is odd, but," Andrew's voice said, while Jesse walked over to check who was outside his door, "are you home by any chance?" Jesse could hear Harry crying over the phone, but it sounded weirdly doubled, like the phone was going haywire or something.

"Yeah," said Jesse, "Why? Hang on." He looked out through the peep hole and… Oh. That was why the baby sounded weird. He was outside the door.

Jesse undid all three locks on his door and threw it open. Andrew was wearing a leather jacket and holding Harry on his hip, with a gigantic diaper bag resting in a car seat on the steps next to him. He looked tired and anxious and gorgeous. "Hi," said Andrew. "This is awful, I know, but there were photographers waiting at the hotel and they make Harry cry, and I couldn't – I didn't know what to do so I told the cab to come here." Harry had been crying but he perked up when he saw Jesse, and Jesse… Well. It made his heart do funny things in his chest.

"Of course, come in." He started to pick up the bags but when he leaned past Andrew Harry reached out with both hands and made a sad, demanding noise. It bypassed all the logical thoughts in Jesse's brain somehow and he reached for Harry instead.

"Oh," said Andrew, helping Jesse take Harry. Jesse didn't know what that 'oh' meant; if Andrew was happy that Harry remembered him, or sad that Harry wanted someone else to hold him, or just relieved to have his arms free.

Harry grabbed Jesse's hoodie with one hand and his hair with the other. "Oww," said Jesse, trying politely to disentangle his fingers. Harry said something that certainly might have been Jesse's name, if Jesse was willing to pretend hard enough.

"He wouldn't sleep on the plane," said Andrew, sounding exhausted. He picked up the bags and followed Jesse into his apartment. "He wouldn't nap in the cab, and then the flashing cameras woke him up completely again, and I'm sorry for showing up like this."

"Stop it," said Jesse. "Of course you came here. Where are your suitcases and stuff?"

"They were sent to the hotel," Andrew sighed. "This trip has barely started and it's already a disaster." He flopped onto Jesse's couch and leaned back, putting an arm over his eyes. "My mum told me to leave Harry with her in L.A. and I was _going_ to, but then I got ready to go and I… I mean, I just _couldn't_. He cried."

Jesse snorted. "Am I supposed to be surprised by that?" He wrestled Harry out of his coat while Harry enthusiastically tried to kick his shoes off.

"Amma," said Harry clearly, tugging on Jesse's hair. "Amma!"

"That means yummy, I think," said Andrew. "Which means he wants a snack. He's got a couple more words now. It's a good sign, right? He's starting to talk more."

Jesse shooed a startled cat off the table so Harry had space. The cats gathered in the corner of the kitchen to stare balefully at the tiny interloper. Jesse fished a cup of applesauce out of the diaper bag and Harry squealed.

"Traveling with a baby isn't supposed to be easy, is it?" Jesse said.

"An entire aeroplane full of people hate me. I'm going to be one of _those_ celebrities, the ones that everyone talks about and hates. He just cried and cried and the flight attendants were glaring at me. It was awful."

Jesse sort of doubted that; he had a feeling that every woman on the plane had pulled out her phone as soon as they landed and texted something like, _OMG, Andrew Garfield is the world's cutest daddy!!!_

"You're in town for Letterman?" Jesse asked. Andrew made a groaning noise that was probably an affirmative. Jesse offered Harry a spoonful of applesauce. He resisted the urge to make a flying airplane noise, because Andrew was right there, watching him. "I mean, it's sort of presumptuous, so you don’t have to, obviously. But if the photographers don't go away from your hotel relatively soon you could always… This is weird. But you could always take him to my mom's house."

Andrew went still and then sat up straighter on the couch. "Jesse, she's never even met Harry."

Jesse shrugged a little. "I don't think she'd mind. She has a whole attic full of baby toys because she never threw them out after my sister got too big for them, and she… Well. She likes you a lot. She'll like Harry a lot."

Halfway through the applesauce Harry began pushing Jesse's hand away and saying, "No, no." He kicked a little and Jesse picked him up again.

"He should nap," said Andrew.

"I'll put him down on my bed," said Jesse. "Let me walk him around a little bit until he gets sleepier." He carried Harry up and down the hall, bouncing him a little and humming almost under his breath. Harry started to sag against Jesse's shoulder, getting some residue applesauce stickiness all over Jesse's t-shirt. The cats followed Jesse, waving their tails anxiously, but he shooed them away because cats and babies weren't always a fantastic mix. Harry's fingers went limp in Jesse's hair and his breathing started to even out, hot little puffs of breath against Jesse's neck. He woke up again when Jesse put him down, but not enough to do more than cry once before Jesse put him on the bed and arranged the blankets around him so he wouldn't roll off.

Andrew was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Jesse with a funny, fond smile. "Shh," said Jesse, inexplicably starting to blush. "Don't wake him up." He pushed Andrew back toward the living room, leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar behind him.

"He missed you," said Andrew.

Jesse shrugged. "We spent a lot of time together. Want some water or something?"

"Sounds good," said Andrew, sitting down and then popping right back up again. Jesse rolled his eyes and got them both glasses. Andrew hovered just behind him, being really oddly fidgety.

"Is everything okay?" Jesse asked.

Andrew laughed tiredly. "Other than my disaster of a trip and not having slept in a few days? Everything's fine. It's… Um… I…" He trailed off.

"What?" Jesse asked. "You have to know it's fine with me if you come here with Harry. Any time. Obviously."

"Yeah, I just…" Andrew laughed again. "Come and sit down with me for a minute." He grabbed Jesse's hand and pulled him over to the couch, and Jesse went with him, head tilted because Andrew was acting really oddly.

"Okay," said Andrew. He turned the glass of water in his hands around and around and around. "Have I… Have I ever told you sometimes I find you absolutely terrifying?"

"What?" Jesse blinked. "No! That's insane. I'm the most harmless person alive. Six-year-old girls could steal my lunch money."

Andrew laughed and shook his head. "No, I mean… You're really smart. You're such a brilliant actor, and you're so smart and funny and you have this way of dissecting things to make it obvious how stupid they are without even trying. And given the number of completely stupid things I do and say on a daily basis, sometimes I think it's… Sometimes I'm amazed you put up with me."

"That's insane," said Jesse. "I would _never_ \--"

"And you're even wonderful with Harry. I keep thinking, does Jesse need to be brilliant at one more thing I'm shit at? I couldn't get him to sleep at all, but he napped for you."

Jesse shrugged uncomfortably. "He was tired from a long day. Andrew, I'm not trying to show you up."

"I know. You're trying to help, which is just another way you're the most wonderful, generous person I know, and it's… It's scary, sometimes. Because I might say something and screw all that up and you'd go away, and I wouldn't… I couldn't handle that."

"I won't," Jesse promised.

Andrew smiled crookedly. "You did, though. You left."

Jesse inhaled sharply, horrified. "I didn't! Your mom was there, your place was really small, you needed your couch back—" he started, letting the words all trip over themselves.

Andrew put his hand on Jesse's knee and Jesse stopped talking. He hadn't realized he was bouncing his leg up and down anyway. "I thought I was being clear," said Andrew. He sounded a little sad. "When I asked you to stay, I didn't mean just as long as I needed a babysitter. I wanted you to stay with us and… Oh god, this is so unfair of me to tell you, now that I've got Harry. I was waiting for a right moment but then he happened and there isn't going to be one, ever, so I guess I'll have to use the wrong moment."

"Andrew," said Jesse carefully. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Andrew looked at him and then looked back down at the glass in his hand. "If things were normal, if I didn't have a baby and a disaster of a life, I would really like to take you on a date. Something stupid and girly and lovely, something you'd make fun of and I'd think was romantic. I've wanted to kiss you for a really long time, and I thought I could just… I don't know, trick you into staying with me and Harry in L.A., but you left and either you misunderstood me or you were hoping to let me down easily without actually having to tell me what an idiot you think I am." He looked up at Jesse again, tentative and tired and a little bit scared.

Jesse had no idea what to do. He'd heard Andrew's words but his brain kept clicking and restarting and it couldn't find any traction to understand them. "Oh," he said.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say. Andrew pulled his hand away and looked back at his glass.

Jesse forced himself to keep breathing. "A date," said Jesse, voice shaking. "You and me."

Andrew shrugged. "I just thought. It would be nice. We could—"

Jesse leaned over and tentatively put one hand on Andrew's cheek, turning Andrew's face back toward his. Andrew's eyes were huge and a little scared. Jesse's mouth was so close to Andrew's that their lips were almost touching, but not quite. The last couple of centimeters were making Jesse's heart try to pound out of his chest. "You can kiss me without a date," said Jesse quietly. "I'm easy." Andrew wrinkled up his nose and started to laugh, and Jesse's heart soared so he leaned forward and kissed him.

Andrew made a gorgeous, delighted noise and dropped his glass of water – somewhere a cat made a protesting noise – shifting forward. He pressed himself against Jesse and tangled his hand in Jesse's hair. Jesse kissed him harder, just in case Andrew changed his mind somehow, or Jesse screwed everything up, or there was a sudden natural disaster.

"But I'd _like_ to take you on a date," Andrew said insistently, between kisses. "I'm really good at them, actually."

Jesse felt that if Andrew was thinking about other things while they were kissing then he was doing it wrong, at least a little bit. He slid his hands down Andrew's shoulders and pushed at his jacket until Andrew turned and let Jesse pull it off. Jesse had been thinking about this forever, and there were very specific places on Andrew's body he'd wanted to put his mouth on for a lot longer than he was willing to admit to himself. The place where Andrew's throat met his shoulder was one of them.

"Ohhhh," said Andrew, tipping his head back. "But I haven't showered since the plane, and the baby—"

"Stop that," said Jesse, pushing him back into the cushions a little. Andrew went willingly, sinking back on his elbows. Jesse hadn't really been planning to climb on top of him but he wasn't against the idea of touching Andrew all over, either.

"I smell," said Andrew.

"You smell like _you_ ," Jesse answered. He wasn't sure how to explain to Andrew how attractive that was. Jesse felt a little stupid getting hard just from kissing Andrew, from running his hands along Andrew's arms, from smelling him up so close. Part of it was adrenaline, too; trying to touch Andrew as much as he could now that he was suddenly allowed to, and feeling like he needed to rush before it went away again.

Andrew tilted his head a little bit, giving Jesse better access just the way the cats did when they wanted to be petted. Jesse kissed his neck and then sucked on the skin there, resisting the urge to sink his teeth in. He didn't really think Andrew wanted to explain red marks on his neck when he went on Letterman. He ran his hands up underneath Andrew's shirt instead, marveling at how warm Andrew was, how solid the muscles of his stomach were. Jesse wasn't out of shape, but he wasn't Spider-man, either.

Andrew made a noise that Jesse would have teased him about under other circumstances. "Oh god, you have to stop that, I can't—" Andrew said, grabbing Jesse's face with both hands and pulling him up into another kiss. Jesse moved his thumb into the dip just above Andrew's hip bone and Andrew groaned, a soft little, "Uh, uh," noise and his hips stuttered up against Jesse.

Was Andrew too tall to have sex on the couch, Jesse wondered, and then, was Andrew the kind of guy who had sex before he even went on the first date? Was Jesse taking advantage of how tired he was? Was Andrew subconsciously just letting Jesse kiss him because he knew, deep down somewhere, that he needed help with Harry and Jesse was willing to volunteer? Andrew would never do that on purpose, but—

"You're thinking, I can hear you," said Andrew. He rested his forehead against Jesse's, breathing a little bit hard. His lips were pink and bitten and his cheeks were flushed and he had one hand on Jesse's face, rubbing his thumb back and forth along his jaw and curling his fingers into Jesse's hair. Jesse wanted to crawl into his lap and stay there forever.

"I can't help it," said Jesse. "Things like this don't happen to me. Well. In the movies they do, I guess. Are you reading a script or something? Can I flip ahead and see how it ends?"

Andrew chuckled. "It ends well," he said. "I promise. Please stop panicking about whatever you're panicking about. I've been wanting this _forever_ and I'd be so disappointed if you didn't enjoy it."

"I'm enjoying it," Jesse promised. "You have no idea."

"Don't I?" Andrew asked, with a wicked little grin, one of his hands wandering toward the buttons on Jesse's jeans.

In the next room Harry started to cry.

Jesse scrambled up off Andrew and the couch. "Shit," he said. "We can't do this."

"He'll fall asleep again," said Andrew, running a hand through his hair so it stuck straight up.

Jesse shook his head. "I can't do this with him in the next room, and the cats…" He pointed at them. They'd been staring the whole time.

Andrew groaned and hid his face in his hands. "I knew the baby was going to be a deal breaker. Oh, god."

"Wait, just – Hold that thought," said Jesse. He went into the bedroom and made sure Harry had fallen back asleep, and the came back to the living room. He crouched in front of Andrew, his hands on Andrew's knees. His brain gave him a quick flash of all the other things he wanted to do crouching in front of Andrew like this, but then one of the cats meowed and brought him back to earth.

"Listen," said Jesse, and Andrew looked up at him, half-amused and half-embarrassed. "Harry isn't a deal breaker for me. I don't think there would _be_ a deal breaker, honestly. I can't think of a single thing you could possibly do that would discourage me. If you wanted me to move in and just be the nanny while you dated a bunch of improbably hot L.A. starlets I'd do it, because I'm that pathetic. Throw in some pity-kissing and I'd basically… I'm still trying to figure out how I'm hallucinating you showing up at my door like this."

"Oh," said Andrew faintly. "That's… Jesse, that's lovely. Well, not the part where you think I'd use you and lead you on, but the _sentiment_ , I mean." He waved one hand around and Jesse caught it, lacing his fingers through Andrew's.

Jesse bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh. "I'm not saying you _would_ , just that if you wanted to I'd still be in."

"I wouldn't," said Andrew earnestly, and Jesse had to kiss him again. Andrew reached down and tried to pull Jesse up and onto his lap.

"I seriously can't have sex with you on the couch with other mammals in the house," Jesse said, stopping him. Andrew snorted. "But I still think – Remember, I said my mom could watch Harry while you do those interviews? I bet she'd watch him while you took me on a date, too."

Andrew's eyes went wide. "Would she? That would be amazing. Would she approve, do you think? I don't know anywhere I'd take you around here—"

"Maybe I should take you out," said Jesse, feeling suddenly brave. This was an unearned reward he'd stumbled across somehow, and he needed to take advantage while he was allowed. "You need to go back uptown for the interview, don't you?"

Andrew nodded and bit his lip. "Do I look like I've been ravished on a couch?" he asked. "I sort of hope I do."

"I hope you don't by the time you get there," said Jesse. "I'll watch Harry today. Come back tonight with your suitcases and stuff. If you want to, I mean. Um. That sounded presumptuous, I didn't mean to presume."

" _Please_ presume," said Andrew, quietly delighted, and kissed him again.

\--

"You've met her before. Stop fidgeting," said Jesse. He shifted the diaper bag to his other shoulder so he could drag both suitcases up the driveway without dropping anything.

It was dark and a little bit cold outside, and the nearest houses' lights were partially hidden behind trees and hedges. Harry said something that sounded a lot like, "Namf a bloor bagin."

"Being introduced to someone is quite a bit different than asking them to babysit and also confessing you've got designs on their only son." Andrew hitched Harry up higher on his hip. "This isn't a casual visit."

Jesse's mom threw the door open. The light from inside the house blinded Jesse temporarily. Long enough for her to come charging down the steps with her arms flung wide. "Oh my goodness, Andrew! I haven't seen you since the Oscars, have I? And who is _this_ charming little prince?" She stopped just short of snatching Harry from Andrew, but Jesse could see she was itching to.

"Hi, mom," said Jesse.

She was totally enraptured by Harry, who squealed and reached out to try and steal her glasses. "Harry, no," said Andrew. "This is Jesse's mummy. Can you say hi?"

"Hi," said Harry.

"Oh, you precious little _angel_!" Jesse's mom said. "Would you like to come say hi to me? Come say hi to grammy." She held her hands out and Harry giggled. "May I? I would like to steal your baby."

"Of course," said Andrew. He turned to Jesse and mouthed, 'grammy?' Jesse just shook his head. He could have told Andrew that was going to happen. There was a funny conflict going on inside his chest, where part of him was thrilled at how his mother was so happy with Andrew's son, and part of him was already trying to figure out what he'd tell her when Andrew changed his mind about Jesse.

"I have toys and a piano and a puppy to play with and I made cookies just for you, sweetheart." She beeped Harry's nose and he giggled again. "Don't worry; the cookies are made with applesauce and honey instead of sugar and oil. And they're in tiny little pieces so he can't choke."

"I… I hadn't been worried," said Andrew, looking a little bit run over. She carried Harry up the stairs and into the house. Andrew turned to Jesse, wide-eyed. "Oh my god, Jesse. Your _mum_."

"Sometimes she picks up total strangers' babies in the park. She has an attic full of old toys and by now she's probably already gotten her guitar out to start teaching him songs about recycling and saving the whales. Is that… Yes, I think that's Baby Beluga I hear her singing."

Andrew just stared at him. "She doesn't – She didn't even – 'Grammy' means what I think it does, doesn't it?"

"Yup," said Jesse. "Hey, mom! Can I borrow the car? I'm taking Andrew out to dinner," he shouted, dragging the suitcase up the steps to the door. He glanced over at Andrew to make sure that was okay, and Andrew smiled at him.

"Take him somewhere nice," she called back. "Make sure they have cloth napkins and a good wine list. I'm showing Harry the finger puppet theater!"

Andrew started laughing and couldn't seem to stop; he leaned against the wall and tipped his head back and Jesse stood there, stupidly enjoying the way Andrew laughed with his whole body.

"Do you have to be up early tomorrow for press?" Jesse asked. "Or can I keep you out?" It occurred to him that sex wasn't going to be any easier to manage in his old bedroom with his mom a couple of doors down. Maybe it would have to wait until they got back to L.A.

Andrew's giggles got worse. He gasped for breath a little bit. "I'm free -- until later."

Jesse shouted, "Mom, all of Harry's stuff is here by the door. I'm going to keep Andrew out really late, don't wait up!"

"Harry and I will be just fine," she said, leaning around the door from the kitchen. "Now Andrew, you make sure he pays for dinner and both of you use protection. You can never be too safe."

Andrew looked like he was in danger of actually passing out from not breathing. "Mom," said Jesse. " _Please._ " He grabbed her keys off the coffee table.

Harry was chewing on a finger puppet. "Bye bye," he said, waving. She held him up so he could give Andrew a messy kiss on the cheek.

"Bye," said Jesse. He grabbed Andrew's hand and pulled him toward the door. "Quick, before she starts giving sex advice. If I'd had dates in high school she would have ruined every one."

"Thank you," Andrew managed and then Jesse pulled him out the door. Andrew laughed all the way down the steps and the driveway. "Your mum's _fantastic._ "

"You say that because you never had to be a teenage boy living in her house. She came to my school and did assemblies on recycling. Dressed as a clown. Playing guitar."

"That-- that sounds _amazing_ ," Andrew said, collapsing in giggles again. Jesse rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't grin back at him.

Jesse unlocked the door on his mom's hybrid Honda and held it open for Andrew. "I'm supposed to be a gentleman," he said. His hands were starting to shake a little bit. Jesse felt like he'd woken up inside a dream and he was trying very, very hard not to notice that his math class was taking place on a roller coaster so he wouldn't accidentally wake up.

"Thanks," said Andrew, and then instead of climbing into the car he backed Jesse up against it. Andrew put his hands on the car on either side of Jesse's shoulders and leaned in, looming just a little. "I can't believe how lucky I am," Andrew said quietly and kissed him.

Jesse groaned and tried not to melt completely into the car. "But—" he said, turning his head.

"But nothing," said Andrew, chasing Jesse's mouth with his own. It was hard to resist that, and harder to resist the way Andrew sighed happily and opened his mouth wider, the way he moved his legs between Jesse's and rocked his hips forward. The back door handle was digging into Jesse's hip and he tried to focus on that.

" _But_ ," Jesse repeated more firmly, putting his hands on Andrew's hips and trying to push him back to get a little space. He was sure he'd be able to form coherent thoughts if he just had an inch or two between himself and Andrew. "This is a first date," Jesse said, trying to sound stern. "You've got a kid, and you live in L.A., and you're trying to stay out of the news, which dating me definitely won't help you do. You need to think about this. Is it worth it? Is this even a good idea?"

"Yes," said Andrew shortly. He kissed the side of Jesse's mouth and the scrape of his stubble against Jesse's skin made all the words vanish out of Jesse's brain again. He turned his mouth blindly toward Andrew's and let Andrew kiss him until he couldn't breathe.

"I… I had a point," said Jesse vaguely, eventually.

"Your point was crap," said Andrew. His hands had migrated up under Jesse's shirt and he was scratching his thumbnail back and forth across Jesse's ribs. Jesse couldn't get his breathing back under control.

"It's too cold to have sex out here," he blurted.

Andrew twisted his mouth in the way that meant he was trying not to burst out laughing. "Are you worried we might?" he asked. "Right here, right now?"

"Yes," said Jesse. "Stop it, we have to talk about this. You're a _dad_ , you can't just—"

"Throw myself at every attractive man who wanders by and happens to be really gifted with children and secretly pining for me?"

Jesse managed to shove him back half a step. "I hate you."

"This isn't spur of the moment," Andrew said. "Just because I was too scared to say anything for a long time doesn't mean I wasn't _thinking_ about it. I've got a PhD in pining myself."

"I'm not going to do anything until we talk about this," said Jesse firmly. He managed to wiggle out from under Andrew's hands. "Get in the car and let's go to dinner and talk." He wanted a table between him and Andrew, because he was likely to forget why he thought this was a bad idea if Andrew was close enough to touch. He'd always been distracted by Andrew's mouth. Tonight it was making his brain go numb.

Dinner was good, except once Andrew realized Jesse was trying to avoid touching him he got a lot more ridiculous about sucking on his spoon and trying to brush his leg against Jesse's under the table. Jesse had every intention of actually talking about whether any of this was a good idea but Andrew was infuriatingly serene and uninterested in talking about consequences.

"Now what?" Andrew asked, doing absolutely obscene things with his tongue over the last bite of tiramisu. Jesse's neck got hot just watching him. "You promised to keep me out late."

"Mostly because if we go home my mom is going to want to know what we're doing, and _I_ don't know what we're doing. Stop it, Andrew, people are staring."

"Are they?" Andrew asked breezily. "You should probably take me home, then."

"I'm not having sex with you at my mom's house," Jesse said, mildly scandalized.

Andrew laughed. "You won't have sex with me at your apartment. You won't have sex outside. Now we can't have sex at your mum's house. You'd better have a plan D, Jesse, because I've been waiting _ages_."

"I have good reasons for all of those things. Maybe we should wait until we get back to L.A.—"

"You're not going back with me on Friday, and my mum is there anyway, so that's out. I'm not waiting weeks."

Jesse said stubbornly, "Maybe it's better that way. You can really think about it, and about what it means, and if you really, really want to."

Andrew reached over and put his hand on top of Jesse's. "Jess," he said firmly, "I'm not going to change my mind."

"You _might_ ," Jesse insisted, a little embarrassed.

"I won't. I thought about it for ages. If you're not turned off by the fact that I've got a baby I'd be an idiot not to cling to the person Harry and I love best. I'm not going to suddenly realize this was a mistake, or wake up tomorrow full of regrets."

"Those are perfectly rational things to be worried about."

"A better thing to worry about is where you're going to take me when we finish our wine," said Andrew. "I think our only option at the moment is the backseat of your mum's car. I'm game if you are."

"No," said Jesse. "Absolutely not. First of all, you're too tall."

"But flexible," Andrew pointed out.

" _No_ ," Jesse repeated. "Secondly, I'm not sixteen. I guess… I guess we can go to a hotel."

"Oooh," said Andrew delightedly. "How sordid."

Jesse's face was so red he felt like he might spontaneously combust. "It's logical. I'm just trying to make plans."

"Take me to a hotel," said Andrew quietly. "Somewhere with no babies or mothers or cats."

"Check, please," said Jesse, twisting in his chair to find a waiter. Andrew laughed.

\--

They got two rooms. Jesse was pretty sure the guy at the check-in desk recognized them, but even in the town where he'd grown up people mostly pretended not to know him. He started to stutter something about how the paparazzi had been following them in New York, so they'd come out of the city, but Andrew rolled his eyes and grabbed the card keys and dragged him upstairs. "No one cares," he said. "You're just making it look suspicious."

"It _is_ suspicious," said Jesse, but Andrew unlocked the door and pushed Jesse up against the wall and swallowed all of his other objections.

Jesse wanted to ask if this was a good idea, but once he had Andrew pressed against him he didn't care anymore. Andrew rocked his hips up against Jesse and Jesse could feel that he was already half-hard; it had to be uncomfortable in tight black jeans, he thought, and almost made a joke, but he forgot when Andrew started touching him. Jesse pulled his shirt off so quickly he almost popped a button off. Then he slid his hands underneath Andrew's sweater.

"Relax," said Andrew, kissing his neck. "There's no rush."

There was, Jesse thought; either one of them might realize what a bad idea this was, or how it might screw everything up, or what Jesse's mother was going to say when they didn't come home. "You wanted sordid," he said instead. "I rented the room by the hour."

Andrew started to giggle, which was problematic when he was also trying to kiss Jesse. "I'm not that kind of boy," Andrew said. Jesse slid his hands up Andrew's chest and pushed his sweater up. Andrew took half a step back and pulled it off. His hair stuck up at amazing angles, and Jesse took a moment to admire it before Andrew started undoing Jesse's jeans and distracted him completely. "I want you naked," said Andrew, shoving at his jeans and shorts.

"No one wants me naked," Jesse objected. "You – you're the super hero, you're the one who does all those naked sex movies."

"What naked sex movies?" Andrew snorted.

"Your ass is in like, half of your movies," Jesse said. He couldn't get the button on Andrew's jeans open because they were so damn tight. "I'm not objecting, I'm just saying. Clearly, people will pay to see you naked. Me, not so much."

"Fools," said Andrew. "All of them." He kissed Jesse again, pressing their bare chests together, warm and electric.

"Are your jeans actually painted on? I thought that was just an expression," Jesse said despairingly. Andrew laughed and undid the buttons, pushing them down with a hip shimmy.

"See? Too tight," said Jesse. He reached over to help because he was very invested in getting Andrew naked, but as soon as his hand brushed Andrew's dick through his underwear Andrew shivered and stopped moving. "Okay?" Jesse asked cautiously. He was naked and Andrew was almost naked and it seemed like a bad time to have to stop and ask if they both had the same end-game in mind. But then, Jesse had had good manners drilled into him as a child, and it wasn't like those went away just because sex was involved.

"It's fine," said Andrew tightly. His face was flushed and his voice was starting to sound a little strained. "Just. Please don’t laugh. Your hands."

"My hands?" Jesse echoed, trying to work that out.

"I um, I really like them," said Andrew, looking down.

Jesse swallowed hard. He brushed his knuckles across the front of Andrew's underwear and Andrew shuddered. "Okay," said Jesse. "I can work with that. Jesus, how long does it take you to get these pants on in the morning?"

"They aren't _that_ tight," Andrew objected, trying and failing to shove them the rest of the way off. Jesse laughed and dropped to his knees, pulling Andrew's jeans and underwear down with him. Andrew went still again.

"Step out," Jesse coaxed, not looking up. If he looked up he was going to stop feeling confident about what he was doing. After a tiny hesitation Andrew pulled his leg up and Jesse rolled the jeans down. "Other leg. There. See? Naked is much better." He bit his lip and put his hands on Andrew's ankles, looking up. Andrew was watching him, pink-cheeked and not really breathing. Jesse slid his hands up the outside of Andrew's legs, letting his thumbs brush the front of his thighs, not quite touching his cock. Andrew made a quiet, needy sound and then bit his lip, too, like he was worried Jesse would stop if he startled him.

There was something intrinsically fascinating about having someone else's dick right there. Jesse knew his own pretty well, but this was _Andrew's_ , it was practically magical. He pushed Andrew's hips back against the wall with one hand and let his other hand roam, ghosting his fingers along the top of Andrew's thigh, wrapping them softly around the base of his dick. He tightened them experimentally and Andrew made another cut-off, almost desperate noise. He had his hands flat against the wall behind him, fingers turning white from the pressure.

Jesse pulled his hand down the shaft, cataloging quietly the way Andrew's cock felt, how heavy it was, how warm it was, how twisting his hand made Andrew gasp. He ran his thumb along the head and grinned when it made Andrew go up on the balls of his feet for a second. Jesse let his hand linger there for a minute and then dropped both hands down to his thighs.

He tilted his head quizzically. "When you said you liked my hands," Jesse asked quietly, "was that because you thought saying anything about my mouth would be rude?"

"Possibly. And you're a sadist," Andrew said, clenching his teeth.

"I could try it, if that's what you're into."

Andrew laughed. "Just… Just _do_ something, stop faffing about."

"Faffing," Jesse echoed, fascinated. "Is that what you call this in England?" He put his hand back around the base of Andrew's cock and waited for him to stop moving.

"Jesse, _come on_ ," Andrew whined. Jesse's dick twitched a little bit between his legs. He wanted to make Andrew whine and beg and tilt his hips forward like that all the time. Jesse took a deep breath and told himself to calm down; Andrew was too much of a gentleman to let a favor go unreturned. He leaned forward and breathed gently on Andrew's cock, fascinated by how red it was, how it curved a little, how Andrew's breathing was getting ridiculously fast and he'd barely even touched it yet. "Jesse, _please_ ," Andrew said raggedly.

Jesse was, in his own humble estimation, a pretty champion dick sucker. There hadn't been that many to experiment on, but when he got the chance he really enjoyed it. He had a feeling he wouldn't get too long with Andrew, at least not tonight, because Andrew's chest was heaving, and when Jesse braced himself with his other hand against Andrew's thigh he moaned and hiccuped. Mostly what Jesse liked about sucking someone's dick was the way it made them so responsive, so focused on him, which was a little selfish but hey; they were getting their dick sucked. Jesse wanted all of Andrew's attention all the time anyway; it wasn't like this was different.

Either Jesse was better than he remembered being or Andrew had been close to coming before he began; a couple of twists of his hand, a few long, wet sucks, and running his tongue along the bottom for friction was all it took. Andrew gasped and made a broken, incoherent noise, curling in on himself, and Jesse grimaced and spat on the carpet. He'd have to pay for that later, probably.

"Should have gotten a towel," he said reflectively.

Andrew sank toward the floor, trying to breathe and laugh and keep his eyes even halfway open all at once. "Oh god," he said. "I should have known. Even during sex you're completely you."

"Sorry?" Jesse hazarded. His erection was getting sort of painful and his knees hurt from the hotel carpet. Mostly he wanted to look at Andrew, sprawled out and flushed and gorgeous like that.

"No, no. It's reassuring. It's lovely. Give me half a minute, I'll return the favor."

"It occurs to me that we paid for a bed," said Jesse thoughtfully.

"Huh," said Andrew. "So we did." He took a deep breath and pushed himself up. "Come on, this way."

"I didn't mean you had to move right this second," Jesse pointed out, but Andrew struggled to his feet and dragged Jesse with him.

If Andrew had come surprisingly fast, Jesse barely needed to be touched at all; Andrew pushed him down on the bed and crawled on top of him, hands and mouth everywhere all at once. Jesse had imagined Andrew naked enough times that Andrew didn't get farther than kissing his nipples, hand on Jesse's cock, before Jesse saw white spots and heat curled up the base of his spine, down his legs and up through his stomach, leaving him a little cold and shaky all over, utterly unable to move.

"Pretend that took longer," mumbled Jesse. Words were hard, and he mostly wanted to lie there and float for the rest of his life, but it was important to try and salvage _some_ dignity, because he wanted to do this again.

"I will if you will," said Andrew, curling up next to him. He used a sock to clean them both up, which was so ridiculously teenaged that Jesse would have laughed if he'd had the energy. Andrew wrapped his leg around Jesse's and put his head on Jesse's shoulder and rested his hand on top of Jesse's stomach, idly running his fingers back and forth.

"I suspect," said Jesse, carding his fingers through Andrew's hair, "that we might need to practice that."

"David Fincher style," said Andrew, mock-seriously. "At _least_ a hundred takes."

"It's a good thing the room isn't really rented by the hour."

Andrew started to laugh, rolling over to bury his face against Jesse's shoulder. Jesse thought that a hundred was definitely not going to be enough.

\--

Andrew's phone woke Jesse up. He knew it wasn't his this time, but he still groped for it and blinked blearily until the shapes started resolving themselves into letters. Light was coming in through the window because they'd forgotten to close the blackout shades.

"Not yet," mumbled Andrew, curling up next to Jesse under the blankets.

"Why is Justin drunk texting you?" Jesse asked. "Specifically, why is he drunk texting you 'What kid offlow dose Emma like?'"

Andrew sat up and looked at his phone in confusion. "I think… I think that's autocorrect for 'what kind of flowers does Emma like?' Oh god. I _knew_ it."

"Knew what?" Jesse asked blankly. He wasn't awake and his brain wasn't working yet.

"Emma and Justin. There's something going on." Andrew pushed his hair out of his face and it stood up at amazing angles.

Jesse blinked at him. " Wait. Emma and _Justin_?"

"She said it was all for publicity, but I had my suspicions," said Andrew gleefully. "She kept getting texts from someone and rolling her eyes and she wouldn't let me see who."

"That's either the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, or the most amazing. Why is he texting you?" Jesse asked.

"I think you are witnessing Justin's attempt to woo her," said Andrew. "The world is a strange and magical place, Jesse."

"Huh," said Jesse, thinking about that for a minute until he was distracted by Andrew rolling on top of him.

"Good morning," said Andrew cheerfully.

"Hi," said Jesse.

"It's just, last time we did this you told me you slept better on the couch, and I wanted to make sure this time was better," Andrew explained.

"Well," said Jesse, pretending to consider. "I don't know that I actually slept that well, or that much. I was fairly distracted most of the night. I'm saying… five out of ten."

Andrew pushed himself up like he was considering being annoyed. "That had better be the score for the bed or something."

"Consider it incentive to do better next time," said Jesse, deadpan, and then couldn't help laughing when Andrew pretended to bite his nose. Biting turned into kissing and kissing turned into groping. Jesse was considering just how many hours they could spend in bed together before he'd have to give in and call room service for nourishment when Andrew abruptly sat up.

"Your hair is like magic," Jesse marveled.

"Shh, stop it, not right now," said Andrew, turning a little red. "I've left Harry with your mum all night, oh god. That's so _irresponsible._ "

Jesse pushed himself up on his elbows. "She knew we were staying out late. She put him to bed."

"But it's almost seven; he'll be awake by now and I'm not back." Andrew scrambled out of bed and started picking his clothes up off the floor, which Jesse thought was a real shame. But then, it was probably better to be a supportive boyfriend and help Andrew hurry back home instead of whining about Andrew not wanting to have sex all day.

It occurred to Jesse that he wasn't sure he _was_ Andrew's boyfriend. "Am I your boyfriend?" he asked. This kind of conversation was a lot easier after coffee.

"Yes, obviously," said Andrew, and threw Jesse's shirt at him.

"Oh," said Jesse. "Well, that was easy." Andrew was already dressed and looking at him impatiently, arms crossed. Jesse sighed and got out of bed.

Jesse thought it looked pretty suspicious, both of them checking out so early; plus if anyone bothered to look, his room obviously hadn't been slept in. But Andrew was in no mood to linger and Jesse liked keeping Andrew happy. He broke a few laws speeding home and for once Andrew didn't complain.

As they walked in the door Harry looked up from his high chair in the kitchen and burst out crying. Andrew scooped him up and started apologizing while Harry wailed and clutched his shirt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I'm back now, it's okay," Andrew said.

Jesse's mom looked at them bemusedly. "He was fine all morning," she said. "I wasn't torturing him, I promise. We were enjoying a nice banana."

"No, he's just… He's sensitive," said Andrew. Harry was getting snot all over his shirt and he didn't appear to care, which was the real test of parenthood in Jesse's mind. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I won't go away like that again. You see? I couldn't leave him in L.A." Harry stopped crying as hard, but he was still sniffling tragically and clinging to Andrew. It was very cute, except for Jesse's suspicion that Harry was going to be a horror when he learned to use words to manipulate Andrew, not just big sad eyes.

"Have you two had breakfast?" Jesse's mom asked. "I won't ask where you spent the night."

"Breakfast would be great," said Jesse, hoping to head that conversation off before it began.

"I just hope the two of you had a good honest conversation first," she went on. "It's very important to communicate openly with your partner. No, no, I'll go make food. You stay here, don't bother helping."

It was amazing how she could work a guilt trip in to any conversation. "Mom—" Jesse started.

"Thank you so much for watching him," Andrew said. She smiled and patted his cheek and went into the kitchen. Andrew whispered, "She's a little frightening."

"I know," said Jesse. "Believe me, I know."

Harry pulled on the collar of Andrew's shirt. "Daddy," he said clearly, and then, "da da da da."

Andrew's eyes got huge and he looked at Harry uncertainly, and then over at Jesse. "Oh my god," he said. "That's not… He isn't…"

"Sounded like it to me," said Jesse.

"Oh," said Andrew, a little faintly. He sat down on the couch. Harry crawled off his lap and slipped to the floor so he could play with his blocks.

Jesse frowned a little. "Are you okay?"

Andrew shook his head. "I'm fine," he said. "I'm… Jesse, what am I going to _do_?"

"Press in the city later with Emma?" Jesse hazarded. "Definitely try and find out if she's hooking up with Justin."

Andrew ignored him. "What if this is all a horrible mistake? I don't know what I'm doing, and Harry thinks I do. He _trusts_ me. And I haven't got the vaguest idea what I ought to… I mean, how should I… I mean, _what was I thinking_?"

Jesse sat down next to him on the couch. "You know what I like about this relationship? I'm not the only one who's freaking out all the time."

Andrew laughed reluctantly. "Shut up. I'm not freaking out. He called me _daddy_."

"Daddy," Harry parroted, banging two blocks together.

"You didn't really think he'd call you Andrew, did you?" Jesse asked.

"I wasn't thinking about it at all! Jesse, god, what about all the things you were saying last night? You live on the east coast and I'm only here for work, and my family's mostly in Surrey, and of course it'll be a scandal when people find out about us, and I haven't got a nanny or a big enough house or—or-- or-- "

Jesse was allowed to kiss Andrew to make him stop talking now, so he did. Andrew kept trying to talk for a minute, hands flapping around a little, until eventually he subsided and kissed Jesse back instead.

"Are you always this much of a wreck after a first date?" Jesse asked, when he felt like Andrew wasn't in too much danger of bursting into tears or screaming.

"You're _making fun_ of me, I can't believe you—" Andrew started. Harry said something very angry to one of his blocks and threw it on the floor. Andrew leaned over and picked it back up for him.

"I can't make all your problems go away, but I can make you laugh," Jesse said. "That's the best I can do right now. You love Harry and you'll do your best to take care of him, and I already promised I wasn't going anywhere. So you can take this as slow as you want, or tell me you need to put it on hold while you figure out stuff in the rest of your life. It's okay, I swear."

Andrew started to say something and stopped and bit his lip instead. "I just," he said. "I want to do this _right_. With Harry, with you, with _everything_."

"You might have to settle for doing it as well as you can _right now_ ," Jesse said. "We'll figure everything else out as we go along, I guess."

Harry tugged on Andrew's jeans and Andrew picked him up for a minute. Harry almost immediately changed his mind and twisted to be put back down. "Do you think your mother coached him to say daddy?" Andrew asked thoughtfully.

"Almost definitely." He could smell bacon and pancakes from the kitchen and his stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Andrew laughed and put his head on Jesse's shoulder, wrapping his arm around Jesse's waist. "I really resent you being so sensible and calm," he said, not sounding resentful at all.

"You know me," said Jesse. "I worry about getting every little thing right. Do you have any idea how long I've had to figure out how to be your best possible boyfriend? Days. Months. Years."

"Now you're just trying to make me feel better," said Andrew fondly. "Keep going; it's lovely."

"I will," said Jesse. "I promise."  



End file.
